Doctor Who: Parallax - Ghosts That We Knew
by Montana
Summary: EPISODE V: Rose is called back to Earth to attend a party in honor of Pete regaining his position as head of Torchwood. When a nosy, loud-mouthed temp discovers a dangerous relic hidden inside Torchwood by the previous administration, The Doctor has no choice but to get involved and defeat an old enemy. Nine/Rose, AU/AR
1. Chapter 1

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who.

**Author's Note:** First order of business: an advance warning. I just found out I've been accepted to the graduate program I applied to. Soooo… I am going to get at least the equivalent of a "season" finished, but come September I doubt very much I will have the time to write fics. If I can squeeze one in on occasion, I will, but all I can promise right now is that I will see to it that The Doctor and Rose are finally together before I drop off the face of the planet. That said, here's the fifth episode of the Parallax series!

For those just dropping in, you might want to go back to episodes I – IV and catch yourself up. Otherwise, this won't make a ton of sense, being an AU and all. The previous episodes can be found on my profile. Their titles are, in order:

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – I Won't Dance_**

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – Counting Stars_**

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – Shake It Out_**

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – King And Lionheart_**

* * *

"I blame you," Rose mused, shaking her head and taking another bite of ice cream.

"What've I done?" The Doctor defended, arms crossed and long legs stretched out before him. His big, booted feet were propped up on the cushy green ottoman, and his leather jacket was slung over the back of the sofa.

"I just met Shakespeare. He made a pass at me. 'S your fault I can't enjoy this movie, now," she gestured toward the screen with her spoon.

"Be fair, there's always been scholarly debate over the authorship of Shakespeare's works."

"Not for me. Not anymore. You've taken all the mystery out of it."

"No refunds," he grinned at her, "Besides, there's still mystery in the universe. Tons of it."

"Speaking of, why did Queen Elizabeth run us off? What did you do to her?"

"Nothin'," he insisted, truly baffled. Then, he thought a moment, "Yet."

"Oh, fun with time travel," Rose grinned, "Hang on, I'm gettin' a call," Rose pushed the half-eaten pint of Half Baked toward The Doctor who hastily uncrossed his arms to take it from her as she slouched down in her seat to dig the ringing phone out of her pocket. Rose looked at the screen and sighed, "'S mum."

"Again?" he rolled his eyes, taking the spoon and poking at the frozen contents.

"Also your fault," she chimed in before bringing the mobile to her ear, "Hey, mum."

"You couldn't have gotten Chunky Monkey?" The Doctor asked, blatantly ignoring the fact she was on the phone.

"I asked if you wanted anything, you said 'no.'" she reminded, moving the receiver briefly away from her mouth, "What? No, sorry, mum, not you… No, I'm not saying I won't bring back gifts when I come home… yes, I know it's been awhile, but I have called… I was only a week out, that was a slight overreaction on your… yes, mum." Rose slumped further in her seat and stared up at the coral struts that lined the media room and supported the vaulted ceiling. She felt nineteen again, being scolded by her mother for staying out late. Given her time with Torchwood, one might have thought Jackie Tyler would have grown accustomed to not hearing from her daughter every day, but in light of the fact she was now traveling on a time machine, her absence was inexcusable.

"Sorry, what was that?" Rose asked. She'd gotten so caught up in her internal reflections on the conversation that when Jackie had paused expectantly, the first breath of silence in nearly five minutes, Rose realized she didn't know what she was being asked.

"I said, I want you home for the party," Jackie repeated, exasperated with her grown daughter.

"What party?" Rose asked, cringing.

"Oh, for… have you been listenin' at all?"

"Sort of," Rose bit her lip.

"Pete got board approval, he's back in as head of Torchwood. That awful Chamberlain fellow got drummed out for losin' The Doctor. There's gonna be a proper party, a ball, at Torchwood Tower to formally recognize the switch." As Jackie spoke, Rose glanced over at The Doctor, wondering if he could hear her mother over the phone, only to see him pulling the spoon from his mouth. Without thinking, she reached over and grabbed for her ice cream, but The Doctor pulled it away, holding it just out of reach.

"Stop that, that's mine," Rose hissed.

"Sorry, what?" her mother said.

"If waf melfing," The Doctor insisted through a mouth of ice cream.

"Nothing, mum, not you," Rose reassured, then muffled the phone receiver against her shoulder, "Give it back." The Doctor shook his head, edging away and digging the spoon back into the pint. Rose lunged forward, and he turned his back to her. She could hear her mother's voice echoing from the mobile held at her shoulder, but she was intent. Rising to her knees on the sofa behind his turned back, she leaned over his shoulder and yanked the cardboard container out of his hand. She sat back on her half of the couch, triumphant, until he turned back to face her, smug as ever, and she realized he still had the spoon. Rose brought the phone back up to her ear.

"Sorry, mum, I missed that last bit," she said, eyes darting between the ice cream and The Doctor who had reclined back, one arm draped casually over the back of the couch as he wiggled the spoon in the other hand. She narrowed her eyes at him. There was a moment of silence and a labored sigh over the phone.

"You and that daft alien," her mother half scolded. Then more seriously, "What are you two up to?"

"Nothin'," Rose assured, her voice pitched a little higher than she intended. She tilted her head, cradling the phone against her shoulder and started tearing at the lip of the paperboard ice cream container, "Jus' a bit of turbulence. Nothin' to worry about."

"Turbulence?" Jackie asked, clearly skeptical. Rose got the side of the pint torn down nearly to the level of the remaining ice cream and changed directions, ripping around the circumference of the container.

"Nothin' to worry about," Rose said cheerfully, "All taken care of." In seconds, she was all the way around, and she discarded the torn-away paper.

"Whatever you say, dear," Jackie answered, clearly mistrustful, "Can you make it, though?" Rose lifted the now-half pint of Half Baked up to her mouth and stuck her face in, taking a big bite before looking back up at The Doctor with victorious glee and a nose and chin smeared in partially melted cookie dough. "Rose?" Jackie inquired when she didn't answer right away.

"Righf here," Rose mumbled wiping her face clean and trying to swallow quickly. A quick, sharp pain blossomed inside her skull, and she winced, ignoring the near instantaneous look of vindication on The Doctor's face. "Gah, what day is the party?"

"I already told you."

"Sorry, I was… busy."

"Rose, what's goin' on?"

"Gluttony and brain freeze. Take your pick," The Doctor chimed in, making it clear he could hear every word Jackie Tyler said.

"I heard that," Jackie informed.

"Never mind 'im. Just tell me what day we need to be there."

"I'm not goin'," The Doctor said, sternly.

"Who said _you_ were invited?" Rose pointed out, putting her hand over the receiver.

"The night of the fifth," Jackie said.

"Fifth of what?" Rose asked.

"Really?"

"Time machine," Rose reminded.

"June," Jackie nearly shouted, "For heaven's sake, Rose…"

"I'll be there," Rose cut her mother off, mid-scolding.

"You promise?" Jackie Tyler asked. Rose darted a glance at The Doctor.

"Fine," he ground out, leaning forward and snatching the ice cream from her hand. Rose rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes, mum, I will be there for the party."

* * *

All in all, despite Jackie Tyler's occasionally overbearing personality, Rose was happy to be going home for a visit. She estimated she'd been gone about a month and a half, now; it was really hard to keep track in the TARDIS; and she found she missed Tony and Pete and, well, even Jackie. She and The Doctor had been plenty busy the last few weeks, jumping from one near-disaster to the next. Though, to be fair, the two days they'd spent on Barcelona after saving it from the Judoon had been splendid. The Doctor had taken her to the art galleries, the natural history museum, and two symphony performances, one of which had been conducted in a natural rock amphitheater outside Catalonia. Moreover, the food had been spectacular.

That little break had been punctuated, however, by a distress signal that landed them on a disabled ship somewhere in the Torajii system that was being pulled slowly into a nearby star. As it turned out, the star they were hurtling toward was alive, and the crew had been mining it for fuel. They didn't discover the source of their problems until after The Doctor had been, for lack of a better term, "possessed" by the star's life force. As he'd been lying on the table, ready to be placed in the cryogenic stasis machine, Rose had been listening to his instructions in near panic. When he'd begun apologizing, telling her he might have to break his promise, she hadn't been able to stop herself from crying. Though she'd covered her mouth to prevent any sound escaping, there was no telling what he might have heard.

Afterward, by way of recompense and The Doctor's bizarre sense of balance, he'd taken them to Chamonix, France in 1924 to see the "International Winter Sports Week" that would be retroactively designated as the first Winter Olympic Games. Once she'd shown a little too much interest in men's ice hockey, however, The Doctor had decided it was time to move on, and they'd spent several days drifting in the Time Vortex for some much-needed repairs. From there, he'd brought them to 1599 London with the intention of taking her to an original production of one of Shakespeare's plays. Of course, things hadn't gone quite to plan, and the pair had stumbled across a race of intergalactic 'witches' called the Carrionites bent on, what else, global domination.

She was ready to see her family again, to forget for a time all the close calls they'd had of late. As Rose gathered together the things she intended to bring; photos for Tony, jewelry from Barcelona for her mum, cigars for Pete; she couldn't help smiling. She placed everything in a bright orange Mylar shopping bag and made her way to the console room where The Doctor was busy piloting them toward their destination. She'd expected greater resistance from him, and he had attempted to talk her into one or two more adventures before bringing her to London, but when she'd shown even the slightest initial reluctance, he'd dropped the issue altogether. She'd thought it a bit unusual until she remembered this Doctor hadn't had the history with Jackie that her original Doctor had. There was still time for that.

As Rose walked into the console room, The Doctor looked up and smiled briefly before returning to the task at hand. She'd left her hair down for once, clearly not anticipating any need to run for their lives, and it was such a rare sight he found he could easily get distracted if he let himself. She set her bag down on the grating and took her usual place on the jump seat. He hadn't missed the fact that, ever since the hospital he'd taken her to to have her wrist mended, she'd begun pairing her cargo trousers with her bespoke blouses. At the time, she'd criticized his style choice, but she'd quickly decided she'd liked it. Now, there was something comforting about the sight of her slate gray trousers and a bold red button-up as she propped her feet up on the console frame.

"Are we there, yet?" she teased, touching her tongue to her teeth in a brilliant smile.

"I'll have a bit of hush, or I'll turn this time machine around," he volleyed, pointing a finger at her, but the mirth was clear in those keen gray eyes.

"So, what are you going to do while I'm visiting?" she asked, changing the subject. It seemed a natural question to her, but after he pulled the lever Rose had long thought of as the 'parking brake' he stopped and gave her a look that was both questioning and unsure.

"You were joking about me not bein' invited, yeah?" The Doctor attempted to clarify, his brows lifted.

"You want to go to the ball?" Rose gaped at him, and his face instantly screwed up in a moue of distaste.

"'Course not," he scoffed, "I'll skip that bit, thank you verra much. But I did just land us in your wardrobe. I assumed…" He didn't really know how to finish that statement, realizing he'd not thought much at all about his place in all this. He'd simply assumed he'd be with Rose, and it suddenly occurred to him she might want this time with her family and not him.

"No, no, no!" Rose rushed, seeing the sudden uncertainty in his demeanor, "Of course you're invited, I just didn't think you'd want to. My mum and the other Doctor really didn't get on much. Besides, won't you be a bit, you know, bored?"

"Rose, we've been runnin' for weeks, I can handle a little dullness for one day," he assured. It wasn't really a reassuring answer, but she knew it was the closest he'd ever come to that.

"All right," she shrugged, standing from the jump seat and scooping up her bag before offering the crook of her arm, "Shall we?"

* * *

**Footnote: **The movie they were watching is "Anonymous." In case that wasn't terribly clear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Obligatory Discalimer:** I do not own Doctor who. I have nothing else clever to say because, holy shit there were a lot of reviews.

**Vaylyn:** Muahahaha! I have irreparably altered the DW canon for you. Also, I'm a big fan of Americone Dream. **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** It's sort of an allusion to 'Army of Ghosts/Doomsday' but in an oblique way. It won't be directly modeled after that whole plot line, but they will be facing an enemy that haunts both of them… **Lady Dunla:** Frankly, it's just refreshing to see him make the effort. Even if he regrets it. Especially if he regrets it. :D **AuntSueNighCarthaigh: **I did try to annex a Waffle House once. No dice. I'm clearly not cut out for world domination. **Hibari heza:** Thank you, and glad you like them! **Mauve Guest:** Or harangue her into being by his side. Like tempting her with the prospect of riding a shockwave from a plasma storm in order to avoid tea. That was a wee bit manipulative… **royslady51:** I got to see the Lipizanner Stallions when I was maybe 5 or 6. It was pretty awesome. **Dreamcatcher49:** Thank you! Hope you enjoy the rest! **Ninthsgirl:** "Ben & Jerry, you are _worth_ fighting for."

* * *

"Rose!" Jackie Tyler was just crossing the foyer when she spotted her daughter coming, of all things, _down_ the stairs with The Doctor on her heels. Not inclined to wait, she bolted up the steps and caught her bemused offspring on the landing, wrapping her in a massive hug, "You made it, sweetheart!"  
"I told you we would," Rose laughed.

"Yes, well, you know this one," Jackie let go and nodded toward the Time Lord who'd almost been smiling until that moment.

"Oi!" he protested. This was off to a lovely start.

"Not the same Doctor, mum," Rose groaned. Jackie eyed him assessingly, from the mutinous scowl to the clunky black boots.

"'Spose not," she allowed, "Unpleasent as 'im, though." The Doctor snorted derisively, and opened his mouth to prove just how unpleasant he could be when Jackie Tyler's face broke into a broad smile and she held her arms out, "Oh, sod it, come here, you!" Everything thereafter happened in slow motion and he nearly tripped on the step behind him as he tried to back away from the impending embrace. She'd caught him off guard, however, and there was no escape. The look on his face as the lady of the house wrapped aggressively welcoming arms around him was both horrified and baffled. Rose had to pinch her lips tightly together to keep from laughing out loud.

"Hey, now, that's my wife, then," came a voice from the bottom of the stairs, and Rose turned to see Pete smiling up at them. To The Doctor's great relief, Jackie let go and rushed down the steps, encouraging them to follow. He shot Rose a look that clearly said, '_This is your fault_."

"'S not too late to go back to the TARDIS," she leaned in and whispered, and his immediate instinct was to take her up on it until she continued, "if you can't handle this." Cold gray eyes stared down at her, defiant, and he tucked his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, puling it closer about him, and squared his shoulders.

"Come on, then," he ground out, but when she laid a hand on his forearm for the barest moment before starting down the steps, he softened. Shaking his head, he followed her into the uncomfortably chipper fire.

* * *

They were seated in the drawing room, which is to say The Doctor insisted on standing by the side of the fireplace nearest Rose's chair, partially obscured by the massive mantelpiece. When an all-too-familiar blonde-haired boy who looked to be about ten came running in the patio door, dirt up to his ears and launched himself into Rose's arms, it had been hard for The Doctor not to smile, just a little. Now, he was seated on her lap, his dusty trainers bouncing back and forth against her shins, not that she seemed to notice, as he regaled her with tails of his private school exploits.

"Hello, Doctor," the boy suddenly greeted, just as a serving girl returned with his tea, and The Doctor froze a moment, Rose's dark hazel eyes looking up at him expectantly. He knew the wee ruffian, of course, after that incident in Croyden, but he was reasonably sure his companion would strangle him in his sleep if she found out he'd allowed her baby brother to help defeat a colony of Krillitanes.

"Hello!" he said, brightly, hoping to play the whole thing off. Surely, she'd told Tony about him, and if he pretended not to know her little brother's name, maybe she'd just brush it off.

"Are you here to fight aliens?" Tony asked.

"Nope, jus' here for tea," he smiled, though inwardly he finished with '_unfortunately_.'

"Can you bring me next time you are?" Tony asked, and The Doctor's eyes darted frantically between the eerily similar hazel eyes of the two Tyler offspring.

"Oh, come off it. I know," Rose rolled her eyes at him before leaning forward to grab her teacup from the table, "And you're still miraculously unharmed. Just promise me you won't go draggin' him into any more 'adventures' until he's at least old enough to legally drink, yeah?"

"Rosie," Tony whined.

"I won't have it, little monster,"

"Doctor?" Tony attempted to appeal.

"Sorry, mate. The lady's word is law," The Doctor shrugged.

"And you can't tell mum about any of it," Rose insisted, gravely, "She's slapped him once, she'd probably put him in a coma, this time."

"Your first Doctor got slapped by your mother?" The Doctor asked, incredulous. In hindsight, though, he might have preferred it to the hug.

"Yeah, well, he brought me back home a year later than he intended," Rose cringed, "She was a bit – upset." The Doctor only raised his eyebrows at that before taking a sip of his tea.

"I'd like to point out," he said, swallowing, "I got you here right on time. As promised."

"Yes you did," she gave him that smile; that lovely, genuine smile he could never hope to match; and all was right in the universe just for a moment, "Thank you." Shrugging it off, he hid behind the dainty teacup, taking another long sip to give himself a moment to compose himself and lose the shit-eating grin.

"We'll have to go shopping," Jackie announced without preamble as she pushed through the swinging kitchen door with a tray of biscuits in hand and Pete Tyler following closely behind with two glasses of Scotch, "I haven't had time to find a dress for you, dear."

"Can't I just wear the one I wore last time?" Rose asked, she and Tony immediately reaching for the biscuits before Jackie'd even had a chance to set them down. She slapped both their hands away in quick succession.

"Don't be ridiculous. Everyone's seen that one. Besides, this is a formal event. Floor-length dress, young lady, and I won't hear any 'your bellyachin'," Jackie scolded, and Rose rolled her eyes before taking two biscuits off the now-settled tray and immediately shoving one into her mouth.

"Thought you might want somethin' stronger," Pete addressed The Doctor with a knowing smile, handing him a glass. Draining the remnants of his tea in one go, he set the delicate cup and saucer on the mantel before accepting the proffered glass.

"Thanks, mate," The Doctor smiled, and Pete nodded. Jackie had launched into a lengthy one-sided discussion on the current styles for the season and the several colors and silhouettes she'd contemplated for Rose.

"Care to take this outside? Give them room to chat?" Pete asked.

"You have no idea," The Doctor was already rounding the seating area and heading for the patio door. Pete smiled to himself, musing on just how easy that had been, before following the alien out onto the stone patio and shutting the French door behind him. For a moment, the two men stood in silence, sipping at their drinks under the overcast sky. Zeppelins could be seen here and there, though not so many as over metro London. It was warm and a bit muggy with the threat of rain, and Pete wondered how the Time Lord could stand wearing that leather jacket over a cotton jumper.

"She means well," Pete offered, finally, "Jackie, that is."

"I've no doubt," The Doctor replied amicably enough.

"'S a good thing you brought Rose home, though."

"So I've heard," The Doctor said, somewhat acerbically. He realized it wasn't fair; judging by the difference in age between she and Tony, Rose had been an only child at the time. Her father having passed away, she was likely all Jackie Tyler had. Besides which, Rose was, well, Rose. If his brilliant companion just up and went missing for a year – he suddenly realized that was a scenario he didn't want to contemplate, and he handily changed the subject, "Glenlivet? 21 year?"

"On the nose," Pete confirmed, "Special treat. 'S not every day you get your job back."

"Right, Torchwood." The Doctor wasn't overly fond of the organization, for obvious reasons.

"'S not as bad as all that. Not when I was the head, anyway. A year or so after Jackie and Rose landed here, I lost the position to some trumped up bobby. Police Commissioner, I should say, by the name of Graham Chamberlain. Miserable sod. Shut down a lot of the research departments, tried to get Rose sacked more than once. Argued she was only hired out of nepotism. 'Course she'd proven herself well before then, and when she aced all her field agent training, he hadn't a leg to stand on."

"What happened?" The Doctor asked, looking over at the partially balding blonde man who, upon closer inspection, looked and sounded so eerily like his stepdaughter, "How'd you manage to get it back?"

"He lost you," Pete smiled back, "Guess I should thank you, then."

"Please don't," The Doctor insisted dryly, and Pete chuckled.

"All right, then. But I did return the favor. Every mention of you, and your ship, has been stricken from the record. The Hippocrates file has been destroyed." Pete informed, and The Doctor turned to consider him.

"All of it?"

"I made the call fifteen minutes ago," Pete confirmed, taking another sip, "After you brought my daughter home."

"Ah," The Doctor acknowledged.

"Save for Mickey and myself, no one at Torchwood remembers you. No one can recognize you, or the TARDIS."

"Thank you."

"Well, it's not all for you, you know," Pete gave him a half smile, "I don't want them runnin' you down as long as she's with you. 'Course, now that things have changed, Rose is free to come back to Torchwood if she likes…" He let the sentence drop. Both men turned back to the patio doors beyond which they could see Rose smiling, a mouth full of biscuits puffing out her cheeks, and Tony still cradled contentedly in her lap as the trickle of Jackie's laughter drifted softly outside.

"Understood," The Doctor said, draining the last of his Scotch.

"I still want to know who the hell at Torchwood Three let Rose sneak you out." Pete commented. The Doctor's brow creased.

"Me too."

"No matter. I'll fish them out, eventually. Send 'em a basket of fruit or somethin'," Pete said, nonchalantly, and The Doctor gave a snort of mirth. Pete started walking back inside, "Come on, time to go rescue Rose."

* * *

Rose had seen The Doctor and Pete go outside, and as her mother droned on about A-lines and empire wastes, she kept darting looks outside, madly curious about what they were discussing. Several minutes later, they came back in, neither seeming any the worse for wear, and Rose was eternally grateful that she didn't have to worry about Pete making creative threats to The Doctor's person as if Rose was sixteen and he were escorting her to the dance. In hindsight, though, Jimmy Stone could've done with some interrogating and threats of bodily harm. Not that it would have stopped her.

"Rose, dear," Pete addressed, taking the seat next to Jackie while The Doctor walked around and resumed his place holding up the wall near the fireplace, "Thought you'd like to know we took care of those last few misunderstandings in Caracas, Bangkok and Cape Town. All records expunged."

"Misunderstandings?" The Doctor asked.

"Criminal records," Jackie corrected.

"Yes, some people collect post cards or shot glasses when they travel abroad," Rose looked up at him, a perfectly innocent smile on her face, "I collect felonies. Though, to be fair, many of them started with shot glasses." This earned a proper laugh from The Doctor.

"'S not funny," Jackie insisted, though a treasonous smile was pulling at her mouth, "Instead of a proper photo album, I have mug shots."

"Oh, this I have to see!" It was, by far, the most enthusiasm The Doctor had shown all day.

* * *

"And this was Budapest," Rose pointed to the photo of herself, holding a placard at her chest listing her crime as 'grand theft auto,' "I stole a Vespa to chase down a black market alien artifacts dealer."

"Diana Prince?" The Doctor asked. The photo album, Jackie hadn't been lying one bit, had kept him enthralled for the last half hour, and he'd just begun noticing the names on the charging placards.

"Yeah, Wonder Woman," she shrugged, "We don't operate under our real names. I have more illegitimate passports than I have teeth."

"The last one said 'Betty Rubble,'" he arched his eyebrows at her.

"Yeah," she smiled, "I still can't believe that worked." The Doctor shook his head, but couldn't hide the grin as Jackie flipped to the next page. They were all huddled around the coffee table, and Rose never thought the day would come where she'd witness this Doctor sitting so close to her mother and happy about it. Never mind the fact that it was reviewing Rose's felonious exploits that had him so giddy as to tolerate her presence.

"Indecent exposure?" he asked, and Rose couldn't tell whether the scandalized tone in his voice was genuine or not.

"Very long story," she dismissed, trying to draw his attention to the arrest photo on the opposite page, "But look, 'public nuisance!'"

"Don't change the subject," The Doctor insisted, all stubborn self-importance. Rose sighed.

"I broke into the Palais de l'Elysée to erase some sensitive data from their computers, and I – _may_ have decided to go skinny dipping in the pool." Rose hedged, "The dogs heard me and I managed to escape, but I didn't have my clothes. I thought the French would be way cooler about public nudity than they were."

"My daughter," Jackie lamented.

"Right, _now_ we can talk about you being a public nuisance," The Doctor beamed at her, and Rose shook her head and continued to narrate her international arrest record. Tony had been sent from the room as the album was brought out, much to his chagrin, and Rose was grateful for that. She suspected he'd be enough trouble as he grew up without getting any ideas from his big sister. Still, The Doctor was thoroughly entertained, and she was grateful they'd found something to interest him. Even if it came at the cost of a little dignity.

"Arson?" The Doctor asked, pointing to a photo of one 'Vesper Lynd' whose face and hair were covered in soot.

"Burned down a warehouse that was using enslaved aliens to make knockoff designer handbags," she explained, "Don't worry, we got them all out." The Doctor reached over and placed a hand on her forearm, squeezing it once as if to say 'I know.'

"For a highly trained field agent, you do get caught rather frequently," he teased.

"They tend to shoot you when you run," she pointed out, "Getting arrested seems preferable."

"Yes, and _someone_ keeps 'forgetting' to carry her sidearm as per Torchwood regs," Pete informed, giving her a pointed look, "Those are the only citations I can't scrub." The Doctor's grip tightened ever so slightly and a thumb stroked once over her skin. From the corner of her eye, she could see his attention was fixed on the album, the movement unconscious. She smiled to herself, unaccountably glad that her Doctor seemed proud.

"Just as well. Lots of countries don't allow you to have 'em." She dismissed as Jackie turned the page. Suddenly, her arms shot forward, shaking off The Doctor's grip, as she grabbed the album and slammed it shut. "OK, that's enough," she tried to be nonchalant, though it was a bit late for that, "Shopping. We have to go find a dress before the shops close. Right, mum?" She stood and turned to go put the album away, ignoring the stunned looks on everyone's faces. The Doctor watched her go, hearts beating with a sudden, panicked ferocity. She'd not been quick enough, and he'd caught a glimpse of the offending photo. He'd seen a familiar dark-haired man in a smart tuxedo standing next to Rose, smiling that brilliant smile of hers – wearing a long white gown.


	3. Chapter 3

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who. But stay tuned for my upcoming public access show, Med-School Dropout What.

**TK:** Yeah, Pete's happy he brought her back, but I think he's trying to poke at The Doctor a bit, figure out if he would really let Rose stay if she chose to. That's his metric on whether Rose traveling with The Doctor is really a good thing or not. As for the album, it was just an album for Rose, not an album strictly dedicated to mug shots. Anything Rose-related goes in that album, and just so happens the only pictures she has besides the mug shots are the wedding photos. If they'd continued, he would have seen a bunch of other pictures from the wedding. **Kazster:** Nope, that's just Tom in the photo, no time-travel hijinkery. Also, I've considered something like human nature/family of blood, if I can think of a way it would work. I don't see this Doctor becoming temporarily human and not immediately falling in love with Rose as soon as his guilt and the whole Time Lord/human thing is out of his mind. Aaaand that's not how I have this planned, so I'm not sure how I can squeeze it in without ruining The Plan. Still cogitating upon it, though. **Royslady51:** The Doctor? Steal? Never! *crickets chirping* **katydidtoo:** Jackie Tyler, always a surprise. Also, thanks so much! **Mauve Guest:** Pete was always clever, this one's clever and has the benefit of experience with subterfuge. **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** You know, I hadn't pictured anyone specifically as Tony, but now that you've said it, I can't help it. Thomas Brodie-Sangster would be perfect. **Hibari heza: **Glad you got a kick out of them. Thanks for the review!

* * *

Rose considered herself in the full-length mirror, running her hands over the lines of her dress. It was gorgeous, and madly expensive; sleeveless, Thai silk the color of garnet, curving and hugging in all the right places before cascading over her hips and draping gracefully to the floor to show just a glimpse of her charcoal gray heels. The material shimmered subtly in the light of her bedroom, catching the little imperfections so indicative of hand-spun silk. There was a small part of her that absolutely adored it, that relished these rare chances to get 'cleaned up.' She'd applied full makeup, though with a much subtler hand than in her youth, and she'd curled her hair, twisting it up and back, allowing the soft ringlets to fall along the lines of her neck.

She looked stunning, and she knew it, but in spite of it all, her mind was in turmoil. After she'd put the album away, The Doctor had retreated to the TARDIS for the remainder of the afternoon. Of course, she had never expected him to come shopping with she and Jackie. Hell, she was surprised he'd tolerated as much 'domesticity' as he had. Returning to the TARDIS to make repairs and fiddle with his numerous ongoing projects was a perfectly natural thing to expect. That wasn't the problem; the problem was the look he'd had when he'd taken his leave. It was the way he'd hidden behind his forced cheerfulness, all the while those blue-gray eyes had betrayed a degree of shock and hurt.

She'd considered scolding Jackie for hanging on to those photos, but she knew her mother meant no harm in it. The only reason she kept those arrest photos was because Rose was never home enough to get "proper" photos. Tony had school photos and sport photos and he was in the annual family photo that Rose had managed to dodge for all but the first two years she'd spent in this universe. So, it was only natural that Jackie had kept the wedding photos in Rose's photo album. They were the only photos Jackie had of her daughter in the last eight years that didn't include an inmate number. So, Rose had held her tongue and put on a happy face as she and her mother had advanced on London's high street like a pair of conquerors.

Sighing, Rose, put in a pair of simple diamond stud earrings and adjusted the collection of elegant silver bangles on her wrist, a concession for her mother, to hide the watch. She turned away from the mirror and crossed her room, and as much as she'd tried to avoid looking, her glance strayed to the open door of the walk-in wardrobe. The light was on inside, and the TARDIS stood solitary, bathed in the amber glow. She paused, involuntarily, and stepped inside, approaching the time machine with uneasy steps until she stood before it, her hand on the door. Rose stood a moment, struggling with herself, but she shook it off. She had no idea what reason he had to be so shocked, and she decided it best to leave him be.

Inside the TARDIS, The Doctor stared at the monitor, unsure why exactly he'd turned to it when he had. He'd been working doggedly on the Interspatial Substrate for hours, now, with no complaint from his ship. The work had been a welcome retreat from the thoughts that hounded him for no readily discernible cause. That is, until the last minute or so when his brilliant ship had started shocking the hell out of him every time he tried to get anywhere near the fuses for the External Dampeners. So, swearing colorfully, he'd climbed out of the crawl space beneath the console and thrown the spanner onto the grating, wiping his hands on his jeans. That was when he'd felt an odd tingle in the hairs on the back of his neck, like static, and he'd turned to the monitor. His breath had caught instantly.

He saw Rose, paused by the foot of her bed and looking into the wardrobe, wearing a gown that had no business looking so damn – fantastic – on her. As she'd turned slightly and begun walking toward the ship, he'd remained fixated on the screen. His hearts had picked up a frantic pace as she'd drawn nearer, and when she'd laid a hand on the door handle, he knew he should turn away from the monitor, from the door, and act as though he hadn't been watching her, but he was frozen in place. Then, she'd lowered her hand and turned away, her head falling slightly, and before he knew what he was doing, he was down the ramp and the door was open.

Rose spun, surprised, to see The Doctor standing in the door of the TARDIS. His mouth was open as if he were about to speak, but he quickly schooled his features and leaned against the opposite door of his ship, crossing his arms and seeming to hunker down inside that dark leather jacket. Rose hated that she couldn't read his expression, and she hated more that any and all of the relaxed, clever remarks she'd usually greet him with had fled from her mind. She felt, by turns, so very vulnerable and so very emboldened by his intense gaze.

"You look lovely," he commented with easy cheerfulness.

"For 3,000 quid I better," she scoffed, "but thank you."

"So, off to the party, then," he assumed, breezily.

"Yeah," Rose replied, fidgeting unconsciously with the bangles on her wrist, "Not too late to throw on a monkey suit and join in the festivities." She was goading him, clearly, and he charitably took the bait.

"Not in this or any universe," he scoffed.

"Just as well," Rose grinned, "I've already got the most handsome date in the place."

"Date?" the question was out his mouth before he had a chance to rein it in. Then, as if on cue, Tony came darting into the closet, throwing his arms around his sister's waste and nearly knocking her off balance. He was wearing a smartly tailored tux and red silk tie that matched Rose's dress. The Doctor suddenly understood, and relief washed over him, a grudging smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, he's a bit young, and a bit too – related – but he's a very good dancer." Rose said, smiling down at her precocious sibling.

"Right, well, I expect you to keep an eye on the young lady," The Doctor addressed Tony with mock gravity, "make sure she gets home safe."

"You could come," Tony suggested, completely guileless, "Da' won't mind."

"Sorry, lad. Had my dancin' license revoked. A bit reckless with my spins."

"But if you ever wanna be put in a half nelson, he's your man," Rose advised.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked with feigned dignity.

"Good night, Doctor," she chuckled.

"Be careful," The Doctor offered gently.

"Of what? The crab cakes? It's a ball at Torchwood Tower. Safest place in London." Rose dismissed, "Don't' you go swannin' off."

"Never," he beamed brightly. The answer seemed to satisfy, and she left the room with Tony as the smile faded from his lips. Swallowing hard, The Doctor turned back inside the TARDIS and shut the door gently behind him.

* * *

"Welcome sir, may I take your coat?" Donna Noble asked with visibly forced cheerfulness. She recognized the man, Graham Chamberlain, though she'd only just been hired on as a temp in Torchwood's PR department. She knew, also, that the sharply dressed, and rather rakishly handsome, man was here to hand control of the clandestine organization back to his predecessor. She also knew he shamelessly, and often successfully, chased every skirt in the place despite the rather lovely brunette standing next to him with a four karat Tiffany solitaire on her left hand.

He handed his overcoat to her without a word, along with the knee-length mink his wife wore. Donna gave them their tickets and directed them toward the great hall as they walked away, ignoring her. Instantaneously, the smile fell from her lips and she tossed the two coats onto the floor behind her.

"You really shouldn't do that," her companion chided, meekly.

"I'm a temp, a secretary, not a bleedin' coat check," Donna reminded.

"They're payin' us overtime," The petite blonde defended, picking up the coats and dusting them off with gentle hands. Donna watched this all with a mix of boredom and derision. She had no more patience for her insufferably sweet coworker than she had for this intolerably posh party. Of course, it would be considerably less intolerable if she were actually part of it. As it was, she was only here because her mother had nagged her nearly to death about the extra cash.

"Yeah, how generous," Donna dismissed, pulling her mobile from her pocket and flipping through her contacts as her companion disappeared into the coatroom. She was just deciding which of her friends to ring when she heard the doors open behind her and she rolled her eyes, putting her phone away and turning with her practiced smile to greet the new guests. Suddenly, her smile was genuine. "Ah! There you all are," Donna greeted as Pete and Jackie Tyler approached, "Nearly late for your own party, I see."

"How are you, Donna?" Pete chuckled, shucking off his overcoat, "Didn't expect to see you, here."

"Yeah, well, mum's been on me to bring in a little more money. I never thanked you, for the gig, by the way."

"Wasn't me. Your grandfather wouldn't let me hear the end of it," Pete assured, handing over his and Jackie's coats.

"Your own fault for ever hirin' 'im," Donna pointed out, handing back their claim tickets, "And is that little Tony? Damned if he doesn't keep growin'." The boy in question executed an exaggerated bow, eliciting a proper laugh from the red-head, "Ain't he a charmer? And is that big sister?"

"It's me," Rose acknowledged, taking off the violet pea coat she and The Doctor had nicked from a stranger's suitcase. Donna gasped as her gown was revealed.

"Blimey! You're fit to disgrace every woman here," she beamed, coming around the counter, "Feels like forever since I seen you!" She pulled the shorter woman into a massive hug, and Rose laughed at the ridiculous tight embrace, doing her even best to squeeze the stuffing out of the red-head right back.

"Yeah, well, last time I saw you was before I left for Joburg," Rose acknowledged once released from Donna's fierce grip.

"How was it?" Donna asked, hungry for all the salacious details, "Any cute blokes?"

"Maybe," Rose hedged. Just then, the automatic doors opened again, and Donna sighed her frustration.

"Soon as I'm done, here, you're tellin' me everything," she insisted, taking Rose's coat and Tony's smart wool jacket and retreating back behind the counter for their tickets. Rose took hers and Tony's, tucking them into her clutch, before waving goodbye and disappearing down the hall while Donna turned to greet the new arrivals. She couldn't wait to escape.

* * *

The great hall was, in fact, a massive, five story solarium attached to the back of Torchwood Tower, sticking out just beyond the building's primary footprint and displaying the brightly illuminated London skyline. The room was filled with Torchwood brass, politicians, and wealthy benefactors. Rose was well and truly out of her element, but was grateful she at least looked the part of a billionaire's stepdaughter. Or, as far as the tabloids knew, long-lost biological daughter given up for adoption before Vitex took off, when Pete and Jackie Tyler were struggling for every quid. It was a tale as heartwarming as it was fabricated.

Once inside, Pete took his leave of the family in order to greet Graham Chamberlain and assume his place near the main dais and await his introduction. Rose patiently allowed Jackie to drag her about for a little while, introducing her to the great and the good in attendance. Tony, however, lost interest long before his big sister, taking her hand and dragging her toward the hors d'oeuvres as soon as Jackie turned her back even for a second. Rose was grateful for the reprieve, though she did find herself wishing that, in addition to foie gras and crab cakes, they'd put out some chips. She was just biting into a tasty little canapé when she felt someone tap her back, and she turned around, mouth full, to see Mickey's grinning face.

"Miffy!" Rose greeted, spraying bits of cracker from her lips. Mickey smiled crookedly and brushed the offending bits from his lapel as Rose shrugged her apology.

"Always the lady," he laughed, "How are you?" Despite his smiling face, there was a certain hesitancy in the question.

"Good," Rose assured, once she'd swallowed, "Really good. Just came back for the party. Landed this morning."

"So, you went with 'im, then?" Mickey asked, getting to the source of his unease.

"Yes, Mickey, I left with The Doctor." Rose turned from him to fill her plate. Jackie had insisted she not eat just before leaving so as not to ruin the lines of the dress, and Rose was bleedin' starving.

"That's good, then?"

"Yes, that's good Mickey," she shook her head, grabbing up as many of the prosciutto wraps stuffed with fig jam as she dared without looking like a total glutton, "He's very much like the other Doctor. You'd like him."

"This version?" Mickey prodded, clearly skeptical.

"Oh, come on, you two eventually struck a sort of truce."

"And he still called me Ricky," Mickey shook his head, and Rose smiled.

"So does everyone else, now," she pointed out, "Though, this one's not too thrilled 'bout you havin' him arrested, so I wouldn't expect a Christmas card anytime soon."

"You're all right though? With him?"

"Of course," Rose dismissed, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just wanted to be sure he was – still him," Mickey shrugged, and the pair began walking, Tony bringing up the rear, his cheeks stuffed with mini quiches.

"He's still The Doctor," Rose assured, "There are small differences, obviously. He was alone a bit longer before he met me, he's been runnin' from it longer." She didn't need to clarify what it was he'd been running from.

"So, he's better?"

"I can't tell, exactly. In some ways, maybe, but in others… I don't think he'd spoken the name of his people at all until a few weeks ago. I don't think he's really dealt with it at all, he's just gotten better at hiding it, even from himself."

"He's not dangerous, though?"

"No more than usual," Rose chuckled, "Mickey, he's good. His experiences are different, and some of his quirks, but his heart's the same. Or, his hearts _are_ the same, I should say."

"Still The Doctor?"

"Still The Doctor," she confirmed as one of Torchwood's board members took the stage, "Now hush, it's starting."

* * *

**Footnote:** "Joburg" is short for "Johannesburg."


	4. Chapter 4

**Obligatory Disclaimer: **I do not own Doctor Who. But if anyone wants the bread maker my now-brother-in-law gave us as a wedding present, you can have it.

**Kazster:** I's sneaky like that. :D **Royslady51:** I'm reasonably sure that suggestion was taken directly from the "Creepy Stalker's Field Guide." I will do my best to open up some free time to read your new fic. As it is, some people are already upset I didn't get this posted fast enough *cough*hibraheza*cough* **Dreamcatcher49:** A lot of it has to do with the fact that, after his involvement in having The Doctor arrested, the Tylers were a bit recalcitrant in keeping Mickey up to date on where Rose had gone and if she was OK. No matter what's happened, he cares for Rose, and he never really got to speak to The Doctor himself. He still had unanswered questions about this new Time Lord's character. **Mauve Guest:** Well, all that was starting at that particular moment was a long-winded, pompous speech. But, you do get to meet this episode's baddy. Enjoy! **Blue Stone Shining Wolf: **Aaand as requested, the sinister-ness commences! **Lady Dunla:** I love Donna, as well. I was a bit put off by her in her first episode, but when she returned she won me over rather quickly. By the time her story ended, the way it ended, I was thoroughly pissed off. **TK:** Let's just say Rose is good at dodging cameras. Has a sixth sense for 'em. :D Also, your villain for the episode awaits below, and see the response to Dreamcatcher re: Mickey. I make typy enough today. Need food. **Hibari Heza**: Yeah, I try to post earlier, but this whole "being an adult" thing is highly overrated. At least the FAFSA is much easier to fill out than it was when I was an undergrad. Then again, in those days, I had to detail my parents' income, as well.

* * *

"And so, it is my privilege to introduce the new Head of Operations for Torchwood, Peter Tyler," Graham Chamberlain introduced. He'd been speaking for nearly fifteen minutes, reciting all the achievements and advancements made by Torchwood over the last nine years. He was an incredibly charismatic speaker, and it made Rose's skin crawl, just a little. She was never over-fond of the man, for obvious reasons, but listening to his droning affectation of magnanimity had been a prolonged exercise in self-control. Finally, he was done, and Rose brightened immediately, clapping along with the assembled crowd as her stepfather took to the podium.

"All right, settle down," Pete insisted, smiling, "First, I must thank Mr. Chamberlain for his exemplary stewardship. I have the great fortune of assuming responsibility for an organization that has grown by leaps and bounds. Much of the credit must also go to the capable, dedicated professionals who work here. I pledge to give you the space and autonomy needed to do your jobs to the best of your ability. Let us be reminded of the importance of our mission, and may we all execute our duties with honor and expediency in the name of Great Britain. Cheers!" With that, everyone raised their glasses, including Rose, and toasted their new boss. No one seemed to notice Graham Chamberlain's absence as the dancing and shameless schmoozing commenced.

* * *

Donna was slumped in a chair behind the coat check counter filing her nails. She hadn't seen any new guests in the last half hour, but she still had another half to go before her official break. After calling nearly everyone she knew to distract herself with gossip and repeatedly shooting down the simpering Lynda's attempts to strike up a conversation, Donna had nothing left to do but primp a bit. She could hear the faint hum of chatter and occasional echoes of laughter emanating from the great hall, and, at the moment, she was listening to Pete Tyler make his speech. '_Good on 'im_,' she thought. She might actually consider turning her temp job into a permanent one with him in charge.

When she heard the voices in the hall grow suddenly louder, she glanced up to see the slight form of Graham Chamberlain slip out one of the hall's side doors. As it shut behind him, the cacophony of applause in the great hall was muted once more, and Donna watched carefully out of the corner of her eye as the former Torchwood Head of Operations darted surreptitious glances around the brightly lit lobby before straightening his tie and walking calmly toward the east side of the building. Still appearing to be concentrating on her nails, Donna watched him disappear into the corridor. Her interest piqued after an hour of mind-numbing boredom, she threw her nail file into her bag.

"I'm goin' on break," she announced, bouncing up off the chair and breezing past the stunned Lynda.

"But… you can't. It's not time," the blonde stammered uselessly after her. Donna smelled a rat, and no one could stop her once she set her mind to something.

"Is for me. You can handle this. Watch my bag, would ya? Back in a mo'," she said cheerily. Donna marched in the direction Mr. Chamberlain had disappeared, knowing her associate would never have the gumption to follow her or to go tattling to the event organizers. As she neared the corridor that led to the lifts, she shifted her weight to her toes, making sure her heels didn't rap against the granite flooring. Deftly, she crept forward, pausing around the corner from the bank of elevators until she heard the melodic chime of a lift car arriving. She waited a few more seconds, hearing a man walk across the polished granite before his footsteps became muffled by the floor of the lift.

It was then that Donna peeked around the corner, just in time to see the stainless steal doors shut on the middle of the three lifts. She walked out from her hiding place, calmly running her hands over the frumpy gray tweed uniform skirt they'd made her wear, and stopping to watch the floor counter above the lift doors count – down. To her mind, there were only two reasons for the man to go sneaking off during the festivities. Well, three, but she knew for a fact he'd finished cleaning out his office that day. He could be meeting up with some bird for an illicit rendezvous, and the prospect of catching him in the act thrilled Donna to no end. He'd made a tactical error in flirting with every secretary in the office but her. Not that she wanted to sleep with the manipulative weasel, just that she burned for the opportunity to tell him off with righteous indignation.

Alternately, and far more disturbingly, he might be slinking off for more nefarious purposes. Her limited experience with Mr. Chamberlain suggested a personality more than willing to undermine or outright sabotage the organization for the purposes of making Pete Tyler look bad, and as she watched the floor counter sink lower and lower into the subbasement, she became increasingly indignant on the Tylers' behalf. After offering her granddad a job, and a sense of purpose, after her grandmother had passed; treating him not only with dignity and deference, but allowing him to spend hours on their back lawn with his telescope, Donna considered the Tylers family. No one messed with Donna's family.

Finally, the number settled on SB14 – subbasement 14 – and remained there. Donna pressed the call button for the lift and waited, stewing in her outrage, for the car to arrive. She had a broad and vivid imagination, not to mention a particular taste for scandal and intrigue, so during the handful of seconds it took for one of the lift cars to reach her, she'd formulated at least a dozen possible plots, from destroying Torchwood records to unleashing a horde of seductive robot assassins. Assuming Torchwood had those. She always imagined they did. Wilf's fascination with aliens, paired with her familiarity with the Tylers and, now, the enigmatic Torchwood, was rubbing off on her.

The lift on her right chimed its arrival, and she was through the doors the second they opened. When she discovered that the buttons for subbasements 10-14 required a proximity card, she slammed her palm against the button panel. Then, she had a moment of inspiration. Thinking quickly, she pressed the button for the fifth floor, her floor. Owing to the advanced automation system located throughout the building, IT staff were allowed access anywhere in the tower, and that moron Chet was constantly leaving the lanyard with his ID and prox card at his desk. She'd used it once to get into an executive washroom. Donna grinned triumphantly, hoping all the way up to the fifth floor that Chet had been just as big a dummy, today.

* * *

The lift doors glided open on SB14, and Donna stepped out onto the utilitarian concrete floor. She was standing at the junction of three corridors, all lined in cinderblock walls painted a sterile white with a broad red band near the ceiling with 'SB14' stenciled in. Placards placed on the corners adorned with the honeycomb styled 'T' emblem pointed in the directions of various divisions. Looking around carefully, Donna approached one of the placards to get an idea of where she was. Departments such as 'Small Arms Testing,' 'Long Range Weapons Testing,' 'Specimen Storage,' 'Secure Storage,' and 'Quarantine' all appeared like likely candidates. Trouble was, as much as she'd lagged behind Mr. Chamberlain, there was no telling where he might have gone, whether she might inadvertently run into him, or if he'd long since left.

For lack of any better option, Donna selected the corridor to her left at random, trying her even best to remember all the turns she made to return to the lift. This floor was utterly vacant, and the silence beyond the rhythmic click of her heels on the concrete was unnerving. Each door she passed, she took a peek inside, listening for any sign of occupancy, before continuing on. Eventually, she reached what appeared to be a locker room of sorts, and she spotted a white lab coat hanging from a peg at the end of a row of lockers. She quickly darted in and slid on the coat, taking an extra hair tie from her wrist and wrapping her hair up in a bun as neatly as she could to look more 'sciency.' She doubted Chamberlain would recognize her, as little attention as he paid her, and she hoped her disguise would work if she ran into him unexpectedly.

Cautiously, Donna slipped out the door and into the echoing hallway. She hadn't a watch on her, nor a mobile, but she knew her 'break' had now lasted considerably longer than the designated fifteen minutes. Feeling just a bit rebellious, she smiled to herself and continued examining room after room, occasionally with the aid of Chet's nicked prox card. She hadn't found a hint of Graham Chamberlain, yet, and given the slightly higher number of right-hand turns she'd taken, she suspected she might be circling around to one of the other corridors that had split from the bank of lifts. Just as she was turning yet another corner, Donna heard the telltale ping of a security door unlocking, and, looking around frantically, she spotted a door marked 'Haz-Mat Supplies' and darted around the bend on her toes, slipping inside just as she heard footsteps in the hallway beyond.

Keeping the door ajar ever so slightly, she knelt down and peered out into the hallway. After only a handful of footsteps, she saw him. Graham Chamberlain; with his narrow shoulders, lean build, patrician facial features, and dark hair going grey at the temples; approached from her left, passing within a foot of the room where she hid, and the predatory look of satisfaction in his eyes made Donna suddenly regret following the man. Whatever he was doing down here, it was no good, and Donna stayed exactly where she was for several minutes after the sound of his footsteps had faded away. Eventually, around about the time her leg started falling asleep, she decided the coast was likely clear. Slowly, she rose to her feet and eased the door open.

As she stepped out into the barren corridor, she glanced left in the direction Mr. Chamberlain had come from, and right toward the corner around which he'd disappeared and she'd arrived. A huge, screaming part of her brain told her to go right, to escape, and leave well enough alone. However, there was another, small part of her that pulled her to the left. Whether it was plain curiosity or a sense of duty, Donna wasn't sure, but it was strong enough to arrest her instinct to flee. Looking left once more, she spotted the door out of which Graham Chamberlain had likely exited. It had only been a few seconds before he'd reached the cupboard where she was hiding, after all, and the reinforced blast door she saw ten feet away did have a security panel outside it.

Swallowing hard, Donna stepped cautiously toward the massive blast door. The placard outside said 'Quarantine 12B,' and she stood before the interlocking carbon-reinforced doors for a solid thirty seconds before taking her acquired prox card from her pocket and placing it over the security panel with a trembling hand. After two heartbeats that felt like an eternity, the access panel gave a cheerful ping and the light flashed green as the door slid open, heavy on its track. Gradually, the bright fluorescent lights inside turned on, illuminating an incomprehensibly complex control console extending along the length of the right wall and a pair of sterile-looking stainless steal tables along the left, displaying all manner of manual and electric tools. In the center of the room stood something Donna had never seen before.

While her brain told her to run, to get out and go find help immediately, her feet moved her forward, toward the strange object. In stood within a ring of metal-lined holes in the floor that emitted a faint blue light that reached matching ports in the ceiling. As she drew nearer, the hairs on her arms stood on end in response to some manner of static field, and she stopped. Donna examined the thing closely. It could, perhaps, be a robot assassin, as she'd posited, but it certainly wasn't a seductive robot assassin. It didn't look human at all. It sort of looked like a giant, metal pepper pot, only with two semi-transulcent cylindrical nodes up top and three metal 'arms' pointed limply at the ground, one of which ended in a plunger. The strange bit, however, was the phial she saw suspended in the air above the object.

There were no wires or prongs holding the glass tube in place, but it rotated slowly in the air, allowing the thick, red liquid inside to slosh around, coating the insides of the phial. She stared at it, mesmerized, for several seconds. She'd once spent a week filling in for a receptionist at a clinic, and her first reaction upon seeing the dark red liquid was that it was blood. If so, what had originally struck her as plain old 'weird' was quickly becoming macabre. It was in those seconds that seemed to stretch on for days that Donna heard the noise. Something, somewhere in the room, was ticking. She tore her attention away from the robotic – whatever – to take a closer look at the control panel on her right.

The expanse of buttons and switches and monitors meant less than nothing to Donna, but she walked along its length, inspecting everything closely and searching for the source of the noise. When she'd made it halfway down the console, the beeping suddenly increased to a frantic pace and sparks began to erupt along the length of the instrument panel. Donna jumped back immediately, and the lights inside the room went out. The only illumination came from the beams surrounding the metal thing and the intermittent burst of sparks, until finally the mass electrical short slowed and with one last burst from the section nearest the wall, the pale blue beams of light were also extinguished. In the abject darkness, Donna heard a small sound of glass shattering, and her heart sank.

For a moment, all she could hear was her own breathing, and she was too startled to move an inch. Then, without warning, the two cylindrical nodes atop the metal dome of the mysterious mechanical creature lit up, and Donna saw the red liquid dripping over the metal casing, the surface beneath it illuminating wherever it spread. Stunned, she watched as the blood, or whatever it was, seemed to gradually be absorbed into the copper colored surface. Heart pounding away, she began edging around the creature on careful feet, glancing frequently to the tiny red light that marked the door's security panel. At least that was still working.

"VORTEX ENERGY DETECTED," the harsh, mechanical voice surprised Donna, and she almost lost her balance, "INITIATE CELULAR RECONSTRUCTION." There wasn't a chance in hell she was waiting around to see what happened next, and Donna darted for the door, fumbling frantically for the prox card.

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE?!" the creature nearly shrieked, and Donna slapped the card on the control panel. As soon as the light turned green, she squeezed out the slowly opening doors. She tumbled to the concrete outside, immediately scrambling for the security panel and pressing the emergency door close button. Behind her, a short beam of light burst through the closing doors and struck the opposite concrete wall, scoring the painted brick. As the blast doors shut, Donna ran.


	5. Chapter 5

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who. I'm looking into some manner of lease-to-own situation.

**Payton Hale: **Glad you love it! In the words of Neil Young, "Long may [they] run." **Hibari Heza:** TGIF! If you didn't realize I was evil before now, that's on you. There were plenty of signs. :D **Royslady51:** "Ooo, look, shiny fascinating alien. Can I keep it?" **Mauve Guest:** I am currently rubbing my hands together with maniacal glee. How's that for creepy? Enjoy the update! **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** I can't imagine Pete failed to brief his Torchwood on Canary Wharf and the Daleks, so let's say you might want to put your money on "Long-running nefarious plot." Just make sure "The House" doesn't get wise. 36 Black! Hit me! SNAKE EYES! (I'm not good at gambling, if you can't tell). **Vaylyn:** Well, you don't have to wait long for his reaction... :D **Lady Dunla:** I think he's less interested in controlling it than letting it wreak bloody chaos and destroy and/or utterly demoralize his enemies. **TK:** I so wanna spill the beans on the whole blood sample thing. But I can't. Let's just say this Dalek isn't going to suddenly develop warm cuddlies like the one Rose had a hand in resurrecting... Also, yes, it's Lynda. Think about it. What did Donna do when she turned The Doctor down and later changed her mind? She went looking for situations where he might turn up. ;) **Jeni27: **I loved it when Rose told the Daleks in Doomsday that she used the Time Vortex to rip their emperor apart, atom by atom. The girl never fails to make me cheer.

* * *

Donna Noble ran as quickly as she could in her heels, bursting through the doors of the great hall with frantic energy. No one seemed to pay her abrupt entrance any mind, as the ocean of tuxedos and designer gowns continued to drift about the room without any interruption to their natural rhythm. Donna paused a moment, glancing around at the gathered guests as though they were mad to act so cheerful and tranquil. Her mind was so steeped in panic and outrage that she forgot for a moment she was the only one who knew something was amiss. That's why she was here.

"Oi!" she shouted, drawing the attention of a handful of attendees nearby, but unheard over the din of music and conversation that filled the room, "Stop the music!" A few more people turned to look at her, most regarding her with bemused disinterest or outright derision. Donna's fists clenched at her sides and she drew a deep breath.

"I SAID SHUT IT!" she roared, and this time the band squeaked and whimpered to a discordant halt and over two hundred of the most influential men and women in London turned to gape at the visibly frenzied red-head. "There," she said with more measured volume, "That's better."

"Donna?" a familiar voice arose to her left, and Donna turned, eternally grateful to see the concerned face of Rose Tyler as she pushed past a number of bewildered and indignant guests.

"Rose," she rushed toward the shorter blonde, grasping her hands as soon as she was near enough, "You need to get everyone out."

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"I can't explain it," Donna hissed, darting glances around to the hundreds of faces looking right at them. She lowered her voice and leaned close, "Something's downstairs, something dangerous, and it's awake." This being Torchwood Tower, Rose didn't ask twice. She nodded, perfunctorily, and scanned the hall for her stepfather, spotting Pete's concerned face advancing toward them. Rose let go Donna's hand and the older woman watched as Rose reached Pete and spoke surreptitiously in his ear. Pete nodded, his mouth set in a grim line, before raising his head to speak.

"I'm sorry folks, the Minister of Defense has notified us that a threat has been phoned in against Torchwood Tower. The source and validity has not yet been verified, but under the circumstances, we must evacuate the premises," Pete Tyler informed. The calm, unflinching confidence with which he spoke could have convinced the most skeptical mind of his complete authority. A murmur of agitated conversation swelled among the attendees, but Mickey stepped forward and took control, wrangling them toward the double doors as Torchwood personnel opened them wide. Jackie was at Pete's side within seconds, Tony in tow.

"What is it, darling? Was there really a threat?" Jackie asked, keeping a tight grip on Tony's hand.

"In a manner of speaking," he answered, giving her a quick, firm kiss on the forehead, "I can't talk about it right now, love. You need to take Tony home." Jackie darted a glance between her husband and her daughter.

"What about you and Rose?" she asked, pulling Tony closer and wrapping her arm about his shoulders. The young boy squirmed in protest, but his mother held tighter.

"We have to stay and take care of this," he insisted, and when Jackie opened her mouth to protest, he cut her off, "No, Jacks. This is my job, it's what I do. I promise I'll be safe."

"It's not Rose's job," Jackie reminded, "Not anymore."

"Sweetheart…" Pete began.

"Mum…" Rose put in, simultaneously.

"No," Jackie said firmly, "There are other people to do the job, Rose."

"Jackie, I don't know what's goin' on yet, and there's no one I trust more than Rose. I will keep her safe. You have my word on that."

"She's not your daughter." It was a low blow, and Jackie's eyes were cold as ice as she said it. Pete shifted on his feet and swallowed hard.

"Mum," Rose interjected before things could deteriorate further, "I'm stayin', and you can't stop me." Jackie turned to her eldest, and for a moment the two women stared each other down. She hated the hardness she saw in her daughter's eyes, the detached, calculated side of her that had grown with each field mission. She stared it down, now, knowing there wasn't a thing she could say to convince Rose to run away.

"You promise me you'll be safe?" Jackie croaked, squeezing Tony tighter. He knew exactly what was going on, and he didn't protest.

"I promise, mum."

"Call The Doctor," Jackie insisted, and Rose had to smile. How things changed.

"If we need him, I will."

"Call him," Jackie said more firmly.

"All right, mum, I'll call The Doctor," she said, stepping forward and giving her mother a massive hug, "Take Tony home. We'll call when we can," she spoke next to Jackie's ear. Jackie nodded, wordless, as they pulled apart, and Rose bent over to give her brother a hug. He immediately rushed forward, throwing his arms around her neck.

"I can't stay with you?" he asked.

"No." Her tone brooked no objection, and he gave none.

"Be safe, Rosie."

"I will, little monster. Take care of mum. She needs you." Rose let go, and Jackie took Tony's hand and hurried out of the room while she still possessed the will to do so. Pete and Rose approached Donna, who'd hardly moved in the interim.

"So, what's the trouble, then?" Pete asked with a kind, level demeanor in sympathy of Donna's obviously frayed nerves.

"I don't know what the hell it is, sir," Donna began, green eyes wide, "But I saw that Graham Chamberlain skulkin' about, and I – well, I followed 'im. Down to the subbasement. Subbasement fourteen."

"How did you get down there?" Pete asked. His face was genuinely curious, but Donna cringed slightly, pulling the nicked prox card from the pocket of the purloined lab coat and handing it to him. Pete gave a mirthless snort as he turned the ID over in his hand, "Must have a talk with Mr. Coulter, then. Continue."

"Well, I lost track of Mr. Chamberlain, what with liftin' the prox card and all, so when I got down there I just wandered the halls. Didn't see no one, but I found this lab coat. Anyway, I caught 'im comin' out of a room, and I hid as he passed by. It was a quarantine room."

"Quarantine?" Pete asked, genuinely puzzled, "There are no quarantine rooms on that level. Just a few weapons testing ranges and long term storage rooms."

"Well, there is, now," Donna insisted, "Quarantine 12B. So, I went inside and there was a big, fancy control panel and a few tables with picks and saws and probes and such. But there was this thing, in the middle, inside some kind of, I dunno, energy bars."

"A containment platform?" Rose asked.

"Sure, whatever," Donna waved off, "Point is, he done somethin' to the controls. He let it loose. It woke up and I ran and I got the blast doors shut, but it shot some sort of energy beam. I don't know if that room'l hold it."

"What did it look like?" Rose asked, squaring her shoulders and thinking immediately of the Cybermen.

"Some sort of robot," Donna struggled for an explanation, "It was all covered in metal, anyway. Didn't look human, that's for sure?"

"It didn't?" Pete pressed, "Not even vaguely?"

"No, no, no legs or body or proper arms. It did have sort of stick-like arm things. One looked like a plunger," Donna had intended to go on, but as Rose's face fell into a look of utter disbelief and, much to Donna's dread, absolute terror, she paused, "What? What is it? 'S it bad?"

"Donna," Pete cut in as Rose's mind swam frantically in an effort to comprehend the implications, "Did it talk?"

"Yeah, it was all screechy and mechanical soundin'. Said something about a vortex and cellular re- recon-"

"Cellular reconstruction," Rose breathed, the words coming unbidden.

"Yeah, that's it. It ordered me to 'halt,' like that was ever gonna work, and then it shot somethin' as the doors were closin'. Do you know what it is?" she asked, hopeful that, despite her obvious discomposure, the clever, bold girl Donna knew might have the answer. Might know how to stop it.

"Pete," Rose ignored the query, looking up at her stepfather who gazed down at her horrified face, utterly drained of all its color, "Shut down the lower levels. Every blast door on every subbasement level, close them all. Call in every tac team, every field agent available. Have IT shut down the network, immediately." Pete had pulled out his phone and begun dialing as he spoke.

"What about The Doctor?" he asked as he brought the phone to his ear. Rose shook her head gravely.

"Not now. Not for this. I can't –" as she spoke, the brilliant lights in the great hall flickered once and went out. The three people stood in profound silence as, one by one, they witnessed the buildings in the London skyline fade to black and the stars above become stunningly visible. No one dared to speak, and in the silence they heard Pete's mobile beep several times as it disconnected. He looked at the screen.

"No signal. The towers are down," he said, simply. As he spoke, a handful of dim, amber safety lights kicked on around the room. The emergency generator had come on. Rose opened her clutch and pulled out her mobile. "Thought you said we couldn't call 'im."

"Don't have a choice," she said, quickly selecting the desired contact and bringing the phone to her ear. As it began to ring, she thanked that daft alien with every fiber of her being that her mobile worked before apologizing solemnly inside her head. "Doctor," she addressed as he picked up his phone, "You need to come to Torchwood Tower. Now."

* * *

After the Tylers had gone, The Doctor spent a few hours tinkering with an old Nintendo Gameboy he hoped to turn into a full-spectrum vortex radiation analyzer. He'd long suspected the odd readings he repeatedly got off Rose had to do with her exposure to vortex radiation traveling in the TARDIS in her home universe. Ever curious, he'd long been thinking of how to build a device that could register and analyze radiation signatures from foreign universes. He'd just finished gutting the portable gaming device and organizing its various internal parts into piles when the mobile sitting on the table beside him started to ring. As soon as he saw Rose's name on the screen, he smiled.

"Have the crab cakes gone off?" he asked by way of greeting. When she answered his irreverent tone with a carefully measured response, his face fell. He'd never seen nor heard Rose scared, not truly, but as she said his name, he heard every inch of the terror she tried to hide behind her tightly controlled words. He immediately pushed back from his workbench and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, marching purposefully toward the control room.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"We have a problem," her voice caught a moment, and she coughed before continuing, "Chamberlain's been hiding something dangerous inside Torchwood. I don't know how long, but it's loose. I need –" He gave her a moment, a few aching heartbeats, to continue before he spoke, fear knotting in his gut.

"Rose? Rose, are you hurt?"

"No," she responded immediately, "No, no one's hurt, yet, far as I know. But Doctor – Doctor I'm sorry. I didn't want to involve you. I'm so, so sorry." The hint of tears in her voice nearly stopped his hearts.

"Rose, don't be sorry for callin' me," he insisted, entering the control room and switching on the speakerphone as he set the mobile down and began moving his otherwise contented ship into the vortex, "Don't ever, ever be sorry. You're not Wonder Woman, no matter what your illegal passport may say." It was a weak attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't help.

"No, Doctor, not for that," she dismissed, pushing through the sudden scratch in her throat, "I'm sorry I never told you."

"What?" The Doctor asked, moving around the controls with grim purpose, dialing in the position of Canary Wharf and calculating the best landing spot. When she didn't respond, his concern grew, "Rose, tell me what?"

"They're not all gone," she gasped, choking back a sob before gaining control of her voice, "They didn't all die in the Time War." The Doctor's mind went momentarily blank, an involuntary chill coursing through his bones."

"Rose…" he breathed, but couldn't finish. He'd paused a moment at her statement, and a warning light alerted him to continue his landing.

"At least one Dalek survived, and it's inside Torchwood Tower," her voice sounded small and tinny over speakerphone, and suddenly he could hear the feedback of the TARDIS landing over the mobile. He stared at the device a moment, part of him unwilling to believe her words as he completed the landing cycle. "Doctor?"

* * *

The call beeped its disconnect as the TARDIS fully materialized at the opposite end of the great hall. Rose numbly handed her phone to Pete so that he might notify the IT department and the Tac Team. She hardly breathed as she waited for the door to open, and once it finally did, her heart fell. A dozen yards away she could see the cold, merciless glint in his eyes, almost feel the rage and the fear flowing off him. She swallowed hard, never taking her eyes away as he approached them. His hands were clenched at his sides, his shoulders set squarely as he suddenly bore the full, agonizing weight of his heartache and guilt. All that time, she watched, and he refused to meet her eyes; The Oncoming Storm.

"Where is it?" The Doctor demanded as he neared, looking mostly at Pete but addressing no one.

"In the subbasement," Rose informed as Pete spoke with one of the division heads on her mobile. The Doctor raked his gaze over her for a moment, and it tore through her.

"Who are you?" The Doctor stopped in front of Donna, glaring her down with savage intensity.

"Donna," she answered, only somewhat intimidated, "Donna Noble. Who the hell are you?"

"What are you doing here?" he ignored her question.

"What am _I_ doing here? I work here. I found the bloody monster in the basement. What are _you_ doing here? _How_ are you here?" She gestured impatiently toward the TARDIS. The Doctor ignored her, turning away to finally face Rose. She almost wished he hadn't.

"Where is it?" he asked, and it took everything Rose had to meet his gaze, to stand straight and face him down.

"Friend of yours?" Donna chimed in. Rose ignored her, holding The Doctor's gaze.

"Subbasement fourteen. It drained the grid about five minutes ago." Rose saw the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions flickering through those blue-gray eyes, and she regretted calling him with every atom of her being. She had never seen her first Doctor like this, never witnessed this level of bone-deep fear and raw fury. She'd never seen him this near losing every shred of self-control. Even in that moment, in the face of being who possessed the power and the intellect to destroy whole worlds, she never feared for herself, but she was absolutely terrified for him.

"Show me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I don't own Doctor Who. I'm very, very sorry for this late posting, but this chapter was a tricky one, and, quite frankly, I'm still not 100% pleased with it. But, here it is!

**Royslady51:** I know, I know, this took awhile, but it is still technically before midnight for me. Sooooo... I'm gonna call that a win. **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** Well, quite simply, this Doctor was alone longer, he supressed it longer, and without a companion to level him out, the only way he could likely justify his actions to himself was through the unwavering confidence that the Daleks were no more. Sorry for the late update, but it is a longer chapter, so maybe that makes up for it? **Mauve Guest:** People say harsh things when they're frightened, especially Jackie. And yeah, it's a pretty big hit for The Doctor. Aaand the hits keep on coming... **Vaylyn:** Glad it was effective! Sorry for the late post. But it's still technically Monday for me, so I'm forgiven, right? :D **hibari heza:** More evil ahead... Though hopefully not an annoying, "evil just for the sake of evil" amount of evil. **TK: **Yeah, let's just say this is sort of the crucible episode. It'll make or break them. And Lynda doesn't have a huge role, here. Just a cameo. You notice she disappeared into the coat closet just before Rose got there. Otherwise, she certainly would have recognized her. But yes, you're correct, The Doctor turned her down. **A Huge Fan:** Thank you very much! Glad you love it, and very glad to help take the edge of your DW withdrawal! Maybe I should start weekly group therapy sessions for everyone... :D

* * *

"Electricity and land-based internet are down for the whole of Britain and portions of Western Europe," Pete reported. He sat at a computer terminal in the security and surveillance room on the second floor while Rose directed the guards to search the surveillance cameras for the Dalek. Donna sat on a spare office chair, staring up at the dozens of surveillance screens and darting the occasional critical glance at the Northern git who stood there, arms crossed and face fixed in an impassable scowl, watching those same screens with an icy stare. He didn't move, didn't speak, and Donna wasn't entirely sure he was even breathing.

"SB14 was unoccupied, but we have personnel stuck on levels SB 10, 11, and 13," Rose informed as she and the two men searched through hundreds of live feeds for a glimpse of the Dalek.

"Can't you do a scan for alien tech or something?" Donna asked.

"It's Torchwood. There's basically nothing but alien tech," Pete explained, exasperated. He'd been searching the system for files on the Dalek, knowing its energy signature ought to have been scanned and catalogued when it was brought in. Chamberlain had hidden the information well.

"I knew it," Donna said simply, "Mum said granddad was barmy, but he was right. There are aliens." She didn't miss the brief, assessing glance The Doctor shot her way, and it rankled her. What sort of name was that, anyway, 'The Doctor'? Bit too full of himself, by her reckoning. She was about to say something, to call him on it when the door opened and Mickey came in followed by two men in heavy tactical gear.

"We've got teams one, five, and six," Mickey announced without introduction, "Team five is securing the elevator shafts as we speak. Oh, look, and it's Himself. Hello, Doctor." The alien in question turned his shoulders to look at Mickey briefly before turning back to the monitors without a word. "Yeah, always a pleasure," Mickey dismissed, "Rose, what have we got?" He crossed around the bank of computer terminals where Pete had parked himself to stand next to her, the two Torchwood soldiers in tow.

"Nothin', yet," Rose said, glancing up only briefly, "Hello, Jake."

"Hello, Rose," Jake smiled back, "We really must meet under better circumstances some day."

"What was it last time – Bangladesh?" Rose asked, still concentrating on the screen.

"Lima," Jake corrected, "Your seventeenth extraction. You had a friend."

"Ah, right, the Gorn. Bugger had a bite on him, didn' he?"

"You coulda warned me,"

"You shoulda brought a muzzle like I asked," Rose answered, then immediately perked up, "There! It's made it to the stair access blast door." The Doctor moved for the first time in fifteen minutes, pushing Jake and Mickey aside to get a better look at the screen. The two long-time friends glanced at one another.

"Who's this, then?" Jake asked.

"That's The Doctor," Mickey explained with some acerbity, "This one's not known for his manners.

"Hush," The Doctor growled, watching the Dalek on the screen like a half-starved coyote watching an injured rabbit. Rose, in turn, watched him and had the sudden urge to grab the lapels of his jacket and shake him until The Doctor, the _real_ Doctor, came back to her. She was furious, at herself as much as him.

"It can't hear us," Mickey pointed out, smirking, and it was clear he was unprepared for the result. The Doctor snapped around in half a heartbeat.

"I SAID HUSH!" he roared, and his face was inches from Mickey's. Jake raised his weapon, stepping to intervene, but Rose signaled him down.

"Enough!" Rose shouted, pushing between the two men. The Doctor was unyielding, but Mickey backed down, partly in deference to his friend and partly out of pure shock. He eyed the Time Lord warily as Rose sought to settle him, "That's enough, Doctor. I'm sorry I brought you into this, but –"

"And why's that, Rose?" The Doctor suddenly turned his wrath on her, "So you can continue keeping your little secrets? Keep me in the dark, is that it?"

"Doctor..." Rose started, and he stepped closer, crowding her. To her credit, she didn't back away.

"You knew they were alive," he accused, and she could see the untempered fury in his eyes, "the monsters I thought I'd destroyed. The enemy I sacrificed everything to stop, and you knew one lived. What else is there, Rose? What else are you hiding?"

"I didn't..."

"What else?" he shouted.

"Oi!" Donna's voice cut through the room, and The Doctor turned his terrible gaze to her just in time to feel the sharp crack of her palm against his cheek. Rose stepped back, stunned, and The Doctor grasped his face, stumbling a step and coming to lean heavily against the surveillance console. Rose's mouth was agape, and Donna stood next to her, chin up in righteous victory. "Stupid git," she mumbled. Pete, who'd risen from his terminal to intervine, stood in mute amazement as the alien hung his head, clutching his stinging face. No one in the room said anything.

After a time, The Doctor looked up, his right cheek sporting a neatly outlined pink handprint and his face suddenly clear. Rose had to choke back a cry of relief. The unrepentant rage was broken, and though fear and guilt and unthinkable sorrow remained, her Doctor was back. His gray eyes darted back and forth between the two women standing next to each other, the fierce red-head with challenge written plainly in her green eyes, and the shorter blonde whose deep hazel eyes looked on him with such care and cautious optimism in spite of the accusations he'd so callously thrown at her.

"Donna, I could just about kiss you right now," Rose intoned.

"Long as it's not him," the older woman scoffed.

"Rose," The Doctor breathed, "Rose, I –"

"Sir, the blast door has been breached," one of the guards, who was still blessedly monitoring the Dalek's efforts unscrambling the door code, interrupted the moment, and everyone turned their full attention to him.

"Has everyone on SB13 been notified to shelter in place?" Pete inquired.

"Yes, sir," the guard replied, "But at least a hundred and seventy are barricaded inside the cataloguing room."

"It'll have to go through there to get to the next stair well," Pete acknowledged, "Do they have weapons?"

"Possibly, but nothing we recognize."

"Nothing they'd know how to operate," Rose translated, "Mickey, get the tac teams together, we're going down."

"Rose," Pete and The Doctor spoke simultaneously, and the two men glanced at each other a second.

"Rose, you should stay here," The Doctor finished.

"When has that ever worked?" she chanced a sideways grin, and The Doctor pressed his lips together in consternation.

"You're in a dress, love," Pete pointed out.

"When has that ever stopped me?" she countered, "In fact, I completed the third round training course in a strapless Vera Wang ball gown on a bet. Which, you still owe me 500 quid, by the way." She pointed past The Doctor to Jake who grinned in response.

"Check's in the mail." Jake shrugged.

"Rose, if you're going down there, you're going armed," Pete said in his best fatherly tone.

"We'll swing by R&D on the way down," Rose dismissed, crossing to a utility closet and swinging open the doors, "Those assault rifles won't touch it, anyway." She pulled two compact radio communicators off the charger, tossing one to The Doctor, who just barely caught it in his surprise, and placing the other in her ear.

"DOCTOR," the staggered, mechanical whine of the Dalek's voice filled the room, and Rose felt as though she'd been punched in the gut. Everyone spun to face the wall of video screens where they witnessed the dome and eyestalk of the Dalek staring at them; one giant, imposing image puzzled together across three dozen monitors, "I WILL SPEAK TO THE DOCTOR."

"How does it have audio?" Pete asked, "How the hell does it have audio?!"

"SILENCE! I SHALL SPEAK ONLY TO THE DOCTOR."

"I'm here," he replied, and Rose was heartened to hear the confident, bold tone of his voice, "But you already knew that."

"I KNOW MANY THINGS, DOCTOR. YEARS, I'VE WAITED FOR YOU, AND YOU HAVE COME."

"What for? Why have you waited for me?"

"TO END THE TIME WAR, ONCE AND FOR ALL," The Dalek declared, "TO EXTERMINATE YOU."

"Let's end it, then," The Doctor dug into his inside pocket, produced the Sonic Screwdriver, and pointed it toward the surveillance console. The image of the Dalek flickered into static before, one by one, the monitors began displaying the feeds from individual cameras throughout the building once more. Finished, The Doctor calmly tucked the Sonic away and turned toward Rose. "Let's go."

* * *

Ten floors down, they reached the main Research and Development hub. The lifts had been shut down in order to quarantine the subbasement, so they'd taken the stairs, each one closed off by a blast door that could be opened by proximity card and a seven digit code on their side, but not on the other. The Dalek may have been able to break the codes in order to ascend, given enough time, but they couldn't. Each door they passed was another door they couldn't return by. Not until the threat was neutralized. Jake was in command of the tactical team who cleared each floor before Rose and The Doctor exited the stairwell. The whole time, Mickey kept them informed of the Dalek's progress over the coms.

The R&D staff had barricaded themselves inside the armory, as per protocol, and it had taken several minutes for Jake to verify their identities to those inside. Unlike those trapped on SB13, these scientists had weapons, and they knew how to operate them. Once admitted, Rose and The Doctor were hustled inside, along with the tac team, and the doors were locked behind them. The soldiers immediately set about discarding their regular rifles and arming themselves with the pulse rifles they'd used against the Cybermen. The Doctor looked on for a moment, astounded by row upon row of towering utility shelves stocked full of weaponry; a carefully curated museum of chaos and death.

"Those aren't going to work," The Doctor nodded toward the pulse rifles. Rose swallowed hard.

"We know," Rose said, and he turned at the hesitancy in her voice, "It's the best we've got. At least it's the best we've got more than one of."

"This place is loaded with alien tech," The Doctor pointed out, perplexed.

"Lots of alien junk, not many weapons. We managed to get hold of something that can blast apart a spaceship in low orbit, but it won't do any good, here," Rose turned to him, "I need your help, Doctor."

"Anything."

"Come with me." Without waiting for his reply, Rose turned and began walking toward the looming towers of shelves, and The Doctor only hesitated a moment before following. Soon they disappeared between the pillars of destruction, making their way toward the back of the warehouse. Approximately two hundred yards in the distance he could see the end to the rows of weaponry, and as they drew nearer the back wall, he paid special notice to the multiple warning placards and yellow and black striped tape that demarcated a line on the floor beyond which employees were urged to 'Use Extreme Caution.' Rose crossed the line and stopped in front of two massive, interlocking steel doors. She placed her prox card over the keypad and, upon receiving a green light, typed in her code. Two amber lights on either side of the door began to flash as the carbon reinforced doors slowly slid open.

"I guess you could call this our private collection. We've been developing a weapon we hoped might prove effective against the Daleks, should any prove to exist," Rose explained as the doors slid open, "Thing is, we've not been able to test the weapon on an actual Dalek, until now. I need you to tell me if you think it'll work." Rose didn't look to The Doctor for a reply, and he didn't give one. Instead, he watched as a somewhat smaller room, roughly a quarter the size of the rest of the armory, was revealed. It was lined with racks displaying numerous prototype weapons while, in the middle of the sterile white room, stood a stainless steel table upon which rested something that could best be described as a personal canon. As soon as the doors were fully open, Rose stepped inside and, as The Doctor suspected she might, headed straight for the table in the center of the prototype lab.

"This is a portable plasma pulse canon," Rose described, walking around the table once with The Doctor close behind, "Hasn't got a name, yet. Just a prototype number so long I never bothered to remember it. On one test it generated enough energy to destroy an aircraft carrier." Finally, she stopped walking and they both stood and observed the weapon, "So, what do you think?"

"It should –," The Doctor began to speak until Mickey's voice interrupted him over the radio.

"Rose," came Mickey's frantic voice, "Do you copy?"

"I copy, Mickey what is it?" she asked, turning away from the table.

"The Dalek has breached the cataloguing room. I repeat, The Dalek has breached –"

"THAT IS CORRECT," Mickey's transmission was interrupted by the cold screech of the Dalek. In the background of the open line, Rose could hear shouted commands and the discharge of multiple weapons.

"Stop this!" Rose commanded, "Stop this, right now, and we can negotiate."

"ROSE TYLER," The Dalek addressed, almost casually, and an unbearable chill immediately gripped her heart, squeezing and piercing painfully inside her chest. The Doctor watched, helpless, as a shadow of primal terror fell over his companion's face.

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

"AS I SAID, I KNOW MANY THINGS. YOU WILL LISTEN, ROSE TYLER, AS I EXTERMINATE YOUR FRIENDS."

"No, no, no, no, you can't! Listen, we can –," The words poured rapidly from her lips to no avail. Her pleas were punctuated by the first, high-pitched 'zing' of the Dalek energy gun, and the screaming began. Immediately, the air rushed out of her lungs and tears pooled in her eyes. The Doctor, thinking quickly, attempted to remove the comm from her ear, but Rose pulled away, shaking her head in silent refusal. As the shooting and crying and desperately shouted commands continued, The Doctor grabbed Rose's shoulders and pulled her roughly into his arms, wrapping them tightly about her and resting his chin atop her head as she sobbed quietly into his jumper, her hands gripping fistfuls of the wool fabric behind his back. She would force herself to listen as her friends and colleagues perished, to do them honor as they were cut down by a monster, and he would respect her decision, but he would not allow her to do it alone. Only after the last, chilling cry had faded away did the Dalek end its transmission.

If pressed, The Doctor couldn't honestly say how long they stood there, only that he held her as long as she needed. As a Time Lord, he'd never admit that fact. All the same, he held tight, gripping her bare shoulders with strong, rough fingers as though he could shield her forever with only his two hands at that worn leather jacket. Eventually, she composed herself, releasing her grip on his jumper and slowly easing out of his arms. His fingers itched to reach out and wipe away the dark, mascara-stained tear tracks, but he resisted, allowing her to gather herself with as much dignity as possible. When a voice finally broke the silence of the ear comms, it was to report their losses.

"Casualty report," Mickey Smith's voice cracked infinitesimally as he spoke, "One hundred and seventy-seven men and women killed in the line of duty. With honors." No one replied, and The Doctor and Rose didn't speak for several minutes. Finally, Rose cleared her throat.

"So, what's the verdict?" she asked, looking not at The Doctor but at the Plasma Canon.

"It should work," he allowed, "A direct hit to the dome would be best." Rose nodded, and when The Doctor reached out to pick up the weapon, she impulsively grabbed his hand, stopping him. He glanced at her, questioning, and she grasped for an explanation.

"Sorry, 's just..." she floundered a moment under his scrutiny, but as she looked into those gray eyes, it dawned on her what she had to do, "We're developing these broad frequency EMP grenades, and I'd like to stock up on those before we go hauling off this heavy bastard."

"Rose, an EMP isn't going to penetrate Dalekanium," he insisted, but Rose motioned him to follow her to a rack of prototypes along the wall to their left, and he did so.

"Can't hurt," she shrugged, "you know what they say, can never have too many grenades." Deftly, she pulled open a drawer lined in a foam matrix that cradled dozens of shining chrome spheres. Each was bifurcated by a thin, barely visible seam. The Doctor gently picked one of them up, inspecting it so closely that when the handcuff clicked shut around his wrist he was too slow to stop Rose locking the opposite cuff to the support rail that lined the countertop.

"Rose, what are you –" The Doctor began, perplexed, but when she plucked the grenade from his hand and immediately headed for the Plasma Canon in the center of the room, panic knotted in the pit of his stomach. He lurched forward, quickly reaching the limit his cuffed right hand would allow and nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. "Rose! What the hell do you think you're doing?" It was a rhetorical question, he knew exactly what she was doing, and he began pulling violently at the cuffs, rattling them against the handrail.

"I can't let you do this, Doctor," she said, simply, "I'm going with the tac team to eliminate the Dalek, and then I'll come back."

"Rose, you can't do this," The Doctor's hearts began racing as she draped the support strap for the Plasma Canon around her neck and lifted it off the table. She started for the door. His sonic was in his left interior pocket, and he tried awkwardly to maneuver his left hand to retrieve it, but for all the physiological superiorities of his race, double-jointedness wasn't among them. "Listen to me! They destroyed everything, Rose, everything! My home, my family, my entire world!" She paused at that, turning to face him, and the look of utter sorrow and knowing in her eyes stilled his tongue.

"You're right," she said softly, "But not you. They didn't destroy you, and I won't let them." There was more to the statement than just the obvious, more than the fact he'd survived the Time War, and everything she meant and didn't say poured into him with that long, mournful look. As she turned once more to leave, his hearts beat a panicked pace and he twisted himself around, leaning over his cuffed hand to fish furiously in his jacket pocket. As his fingers closed over the Sonic Screwdriver, he heard the doors begin to close.

"Nononononono," he chanted, switching the Sonic to his left hand and flipping frantically through settings. He attempted one or two before he found the right frequency and the cuffs fell open. Without wasting a breath, The Doctor sprinted for the door, reaching it just as the panels sealed shut. He beat his fisted hands against the door, shouting her name so many times he lost count. When he finally tired, resting his forehead weakly against the door, he heard her voice over the comm.

"If I don't make it back, yeah?" her words stilled his hearts a moment and beat the breath from his lungs, "I just want to say goodbye, Doctor. And thank you. For everything." He opened his fisted hands, pressing his palms against the carbon fiber surface. If Time Lords had been omniscient, he could have seen Rose standing on the other side of the door, mirroring his position perfectly.

"Don't go," he whispered, swallowing hard, "Don't go down there alone."

"I'm not alone," she smiled as she heard Jake approach and she stood upright, taking her hands off the door. The Doctor wanted to argue, to point out that he was worth a hundred tactical teams, but he swallowed his protest. There was no stopping her. There never was. As Rose left the armory with the tac team, she instructed the division chief to release The Doctor as soon as they'd cleared the next blast door. Without a prox card, he couldn't follow them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who.

**Royslady51:** Do they _ever_ know? :D **LadyDunla:** You're very welcome! I'd write more, but I need to get typing so I can make sure I'm actually able to make my post tomorrow. **Vaylyn:** Well, slap a mole on my cheek and call me "Clint" because I am thoroughly "Unforgiven" after this... **Jeni27:** I'm not sure if this will be better or worse for you... **TK:** That's Dame Evil Genius, actually. Despite the Pen Name, I's a lady. Well, I'm female, "lady" might be a stretch... Anyway! I'm so happy you loved the chapter, I was just worried the pacing was a bit off. But, here's a bonus! For better or worse... **Emmitha:** Wish granted! No take-backsies! **Mauve Guest:** Love to leave my readers speechless. :D And so glad someone caught the Star Trek reference. Enjoy the bonus! **Hibari heza:** Oh, just wait... **Blue Stone Shining Wolf: **Sooo, this might be an unpleasant chapter for you. Just a head's up... I love how you called Torchwood 3 the neglected child, though. So apt.

* * *

Despite knowing better, The Doctor spent several minutes attempting to disengage the blast door with his Sonic Screwdriver. All the while he listened to the commands and directives bantered back and forth between Rose and that man, Jake, as they made their way to the secured stairwell door and the advance team began sweeping the next subbasement level. Once he'd proven, unequivocally, that he couldn't open the doors with his Sonic, he tucked it away and turned his back to the door, sliding down to sit on the floor, his arms resting on his knees. Without a directive, without some manner of activity to distract him, his mind began to dwell on those things he rather wished to avoid.

It would be so easy to be angry with her for trapping him here. He didn't respond well to confinement at the best of times, and he never tolerated having his decisions made for him. On the face of it, he had every right to be furious with her; only, he couldn't bring himself to do so. As badly as he desired to distract himself from the maddening anticipation and his consuming fear, he could no more mask his vulnerabilities behind his rage than he could break down this door with his bare hands. As her words repeated in his mind, he knew without reservation that she'd been right to do what she did, that he'd given her no other option. It wasn't about saving his life. If he faced the Dalek, if he ended the Time War tonight by staring down the last remaining enemy soldier and gunning it down, he would have continued the bloody legacy of his predecessor; the one who broke the promise. He would no longer be The Doctor.

So, Rose; his brilliant, courageous, fantastic, Rose; had seen the truth of it, the truth of him. She'd recognized the burden he'd run from for so long; The War Doctor wasn't truly gone. This body, this mind, had sprung from that polluted well, and though he'd denied it, even to himself, some of the poison remained. After the war had ended and that tired old form had regenerated, he'd reclaimed his title, not because he felt worthy or capable, but because he'd had nothing left; a wounded soldier with no war to fight. Then; after years of playing the part of The Doctor well enough that, sometimes, he almost believed it; he found this little pink and yellow human who believed it in earnest.

The thing was, Rose still believed it. Still believed in him. Had she been anyone else, he'd have instantly written her off as simple or ignorant or gullible, but not her. Never her. The girl with the clear eyes and valiant heart who saw the eternal beauty of the universe, the beauty he'd forgotten how to see, saw The Doctor, the true Doctor, in him. It was equal parts terrifying and humbling, but it was a truth he couldn't ignore. She had gone to fight the one fight he couldn't, in order to save the man he didn't fully believe he was, and as he sat on that concrete floor, aching to hear her voice on the comm just to know she was still alive, he knew that if she returned to him, he could never put her in that position again. He had to find a way to draw the poison out, to be The Doctor.

When the amber lights on either side of the door began to flash and he heard the hiss of the air seal release behind him, The Doctor scrambled to his feet. He knew the team wasn't back, yet, he'd just heard Jake confirm that the eleventh subbasement level had been cleared and the blast door shut. As the two massive doors gradually slid open, he saw the armory techs gathered, pulse rifles in hand. Some were in suits, others in lab coats, and a ginger man in a hideous sweater met him as he stepped out of the prototype lab, holding out a pulse rifle. The Doctor eyed the weapon momentarily, remembering the way Rose's hand had grabbed his to stop him picking up the Plasma Canon. The Doctor gave the man a semi-apologetic smile.

"Pass, thanks," he said, breezing past the tech and heading for the front of the warehouse.

"But, sir, the Dalek –"

"I'll take my chances with the genocidal pepper shaker, thank you. Now, which one of you can let me out of here?"

* * *

By the time Rose and the team had reached the twelfth subbasement level, The Dalek had wound its way through half the floor, and Mickey was keeping them apprised of its position relative to theirs on a second-by-second basis. Rose patiently stayed back, allowing the soldiers to clear each passage before continuing, but she was eager to face the Dalek; to get some questions answered, if she could; to see the job done. Also, the Plasma Canon was god-awful heavy. As they drew nearer the inevitable confrontation, her anticipation grew to near obsession. Finally, one of the lead men checking around the next corner signaled the column to halt. Rose squared her shoulders, adjusted her grip on the Plasma Canon, and marched forward.

"Hang on," Jake whispered as she passed him, and she paused momentarily, "Give me the prototype, Rose. Let me take care of it." She gave him a watery smile.

"WHO GOES THERE?!" They heard the screech of the Dalek around the corner. Rose ignored Jake and continued, reaching the corner and flattening herself against the wall behind the soldier

"Jake Simmonds, commander of Torchwood Tactical Unit One," Jake answered, "Surrender, or we will be forced to shoot."

"Is it still moving?" Rose whispered to the man ahead of her.

"No, it's stopped about twenty meters back," he replied.

"I WILL SPEAK ONLY TO THE DOCTOR!" Rose smirked to herself, pressed the cycle-up button on the Plasma Canon, and with a deep breath, stepped around the corner into the adjacent hallway.

"Correction," she stated, aiming square at the Dalek's dome, "You'll speak to me."

"Rose, be careful," she heard The Doctor's voice over her comm, but she didn't reply.

"ROSE TYLER," The Dalek addressed; failing, in its utter arrogance, to aim its gunstick at her, "WHERE IS THE DOCTOR?"

"You know, I'm curious," she began, ignoring the creature's question, "How is it that a lone Dalek soldier, with no orders to follow, coordinates this manner of attack on a high security paramilitary installation?"

"WHERE IS THE DOCTOR?!" the alien screeched.

"I'm afraid The Doctor isn't in at the moment. You should have made an appointment."

"NO MATTER," The Dalek answered, after a pause, "I'M SURE HE IS LISTENING. IF HE SENT HIS COMPANION IN HIS PLACE, HE CAN LISTEN TO HER BE EXTERMINATED IN HIS PLACE."

"Halt!" Rose ordered, relying on that soldier's initial instinct to obey a command, "I want to know how you know me. How you knew we'd be here tonight."

"WHY SHOULD I ANSWER YOU?" it mocked.

"Why not?" Rose pointed out, eyebrows raised, "You clearly don't see me as a threat. Or do you?"

"OF COURSE NOT!" the Dalek shrieked, moving forward incrementally, Rose suppressed the instinct to dive.

"Then, tell me how you know me. Reveal your brilliant plan to the pathetic apes before you exterminate them. Let us know just how superior you are before wiping us out."

"THAT IS UNNECESSARY," again, the Dalek moved a few feet closer. Rose didn't flinch.

"Maybe. Then again, maybe I have information for you, as well."

"WHAT INFORMATION COULD YOU HAVE?" the Dalek asked, and if a mechanical voice could sound smug, this one did. Rose smiled.

"The Cult of Skaro," Rose said, simply, "I know what happened to them."

"TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!" The Dalek demanded, and a savage grin pulled at Rose's lips.

"You first," she insisted, "How do you know my name?" The Dalek hesitated a moment, unsure what to do in a situation that couldn't be solved by killing.

"MY SAVIOR, THE MAN YOU CALL CHAMBERLAIN, HE TOLD ME OF YOU."

"What for?"

"HE, TOO, CLAIMS THE DOCTOR AS HIS ENEMY. HE KNEW YOU WERE HIS COMPANION. YOU AND ONE OTHER."

"There is no one else," Rose pointed out.

"THERE IS ONE OTHER," The Dalek repeated, "AFTER I EXTERMINATE YOU AND THE DOCTOR, I WILL GO TO CARDIFF FOR THE OTHER. THEN, MY SAVIOR HAS PROMISED ME THIS PLANET TO BUILD THE NEW DALEK EMPIRE."

"Right. 'Course he did. But how did you know The Doctor was here?" Rose asked.

"YOU, ROSE TYLER. MY SAVIOR KNEW IF YOU WERE HERE, THE DOCTOR WOULD FOLLOW." The Dalek said, simply, "I HAVE ANSWERED YOUR QUESTIONS. TELL ME OF THE CULT OF SKARO!" Rose wasn't even half satisfied with the answers, but she knew when not to push her luck.

"Right, fair is fair," Rose allowed, "'Course, the history I know isn't from this universe. Could be completely different here."

"WHAT?!"

"The real shame is," Rose continued, ignoring its outburst, "If the Cult of Skaro did survive, as it did in my universe, you won't be around to warn them."

"OF WHAT?!"

"Me," she said, and she pressed the discharge button, bracing herself as the Canon kicked and a brilliant pulse of plasma energy launched toward the Dalek, striking it's frame in a near-blinding flash of light. Rose closed her eyes and felt the shockwave kick her back against the wall behind her. She kept her feet, just barely, and saw the Torchwood tac team members start to cheer, a handful of them rushing toward her. Her ears ringing, she couldn't hear their whoops and shouts of victory, and she turned back to her target to confirm the kill. Unfortunately, she saw what they missed as the flash faded, and she screamed at them to duck, to return to cover, but it was too late. The gunstick was aimed straight at her head, and she saw the lights on the Dalek's dome flash as it spoke words she couldn't hear, but knew all too well.

* * *

The Dalek wasn't the only genius in the building, The Doctor mused as he set to work on the access panel for the blast doors with the Sonic Screwdriver. It had taken him a solid ten minutes to get through the door to the eleventh level, but he'd gotten through, all the while listening on the comm as Rose and the tac team had approached, and then confronted, the Dalek. Heart racing as he heard Rose address the creature, he'd told her to be careful, a directive she didn't answer. Still, every word she spoke marked another heartbeat she was alive, and as soon as the Doctor had made it through the secure door, he'd sprinted down the halls of the eleventh floor to reach the next stairwell. Now, only a single door stood between them.

He had to admit, he was slightly impressed by her capacity to keep the Dalek talking, though he was more than a little curious what Rose knew of the Cult of Skaro. The Doctor had never even known, for certain, that the cult existed. As Roses' back-and-forth with the Dalek seemed to reach some manner of conclusion, The Doctor unconsciously stopped his work and listened closely. He heard the shock in the Dalek's voice as it realized her information was basically useless, and he held his breath as it asked what warning it could possibly have passed on. When Rose's clear, strong voice spoke that single word, 'Me' his hearts skipped a beat and all of a sudden the signal was filled with static.

"Rose!" he shouted, "Rose, are you hurt?!" The seconds that passed as the static slowly cleared were agonizing, and at first he thought he could make out the sounds of cheering coming through. When he heard her voice he almost cheered, himself, until he heard her words. 'Duck' she shouted, and 'retreat.' When that screeching mechanical voice filled the comm channel, The Doctor felt as though the floor had dropped out from under his feet.

"EXTERMINATE!"

* * *

Rose moved at the last second, shifting just enough so that the energy beam aimed at her head glanced by and struck her communicator, instead. A searing pain blazed in her right ear, and she instinctively clasped a hand to it. The men who'd approached to congratulate her were taken by surprise, turning and firing on the Dalek with wild, hasty shots. The monstrosity was already firing back, and Rose ducked down, launching herself for the safety of the adjacent hall as her colleagues began to fall around her. She scrambled, frantically behind the corner as the black-clad soldiers poured past her in an effort to back up their colleagues. Shouting at them to stop with words she couldn't even hear herself, Rose grasped frantically at the dark trouser legs that rushed past, but it was no use.

Thinking quickly, Rose pressed the cycle-up button on the Plasma Canon. Her only chance was to hope that a longer cycle would penetrate the Dalek's defenses. She took shelter on the floor, her back pressed against the wall just around the corner from the creature. Too many men had fallen to count, and she cradled the canon in her lap as she covered her head against the debris that rained down on her with every stray shot of the Dalek's gunstick. When she felt someone grab her shoulder she looked up and saw Jake's face. He was shouting something she could only just barely hear through her left ear as it gradually regained some auditory sensitivity. 'Run,' he was pulling on the gun strap around her shoulder, pulling her to her feet, 'run.' Once on her feet, Rose, grasped Jake's tactical vest tightly in her hand.

"Come with me!" she shouted over the din of the gunfire and her own damaged hearing, "Get out of here!" Jake shook his head, vehemently.

"Fall back, Rose!" he insisted, sounding to her like she was under water, "Take the Plasma Canon and wait for the cycle up!"

"You can't do this!" she cried, shaking him. Jake paused a moment, before grabbing the back of her head with one hand and planting a firm kiss on her forehead.

"Yes, I can! Now go!" he shoved her down the corridor, back the way they came, and turned back to his position, sheltering just around the corner and peeking around at intervals to fire. Rose hesitated, watching them fight, seeing the bodies of so many already sprawled on the floor. Tears burning her eyes, she turned and fled.

* * *

The Doctor shouted Rose's name, over and over, banging on the unyielding steel door with his fists. All he could hear over the comm was hellish gunfire and agonizing death. For endless seconds, he lost all comprehension of what he was meant to do and instead he railed against the universe, cursing and beating that lone, miserable barricade that stood between him and his Rose. Finally, with a last, savage yell, he fell to his knees. He knew, then, as the last, feeble shots of a pulse rifle rang out over the comm, punctuated by the final volley of the Dalek, that she was gone. Somewhere on the other side of that door, the Dalek lived, and his brilliant, lionhearted girl lay dead. With that realization, things suddenly became very clear. The Doctor climbed to his feet and immediately began working on the access panel.

* * *

Rose had only gone to the end of the hall and taken cover around the next corner she found. There, she stood clutching the Plasma Canon like a lifeline, listening to the distant report of pulse rifles and shouted commands. The hearing in her left ear was slowly coming back, but she could feel the tepid, sticky slick of blood slowly pouring from her right ear. She'd be deaf in that ear, she knew, but at that moment it seemed such a minor concern. It wasn't long before the shots trickled to a stop, and Rose's heart sank. She tilted the gun to read the force indicator. It was three-quarters to full capacity, and she had no idea where it had been when she shot the first time. She prayed hard for every minute she could get. Now, she had only to wait.

When she finally heard the subtle whir of the Dalek's movements, Rose held her breath. She checked the gauge; 98% capacity. It was impossible to tell how close the creature was, and she needed to buy some time.

"Stop," she commanded, her voice sounding distant but firm to her own ears. Or, rather, ear. Instantly, the whirring stopped, and she smiled a grim half-smile. Predictable.

"ROSE TYLER," The Dalek acknowledged, "YOU HAVE SURVIVED."

"Yes, I have," she said, simply, "I'm a survivor, me."

"NOT FOR LONG," The Dalek insisted, and she heard it start to move once more.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she warned.

"YOUR WEAPONS CANNOT HARM ME," it mocked, not stopping.

"Yes, you're a clever little piggy. No straw or sticks for you," she commented, "You built your house of bricks." Her statement seemed to have confused it, and it paused once more.

"EXPLAIN!"

"Well, you see, I huffed and I puffed, and I couldn't blow your house down," she grinned, suddenly remembering something. Reaching down the front of her gown, she fished out the EMP grenade she'd plucked from The Doctor's hand as she cuffed him and, having no pockets, inevitably stashed in her cleavage. She twisted the hemispheres a quarter turn in opposite directions, the seam lighting up bright red. The Plasma Canon hung from the strap around her neck as she knelt down and peeked around the corner just long enough to judge the distance. She rolled the grenade toward the Dalek, counting in her head.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" the Dalek demanded as its eye-stalk focused on the grenade.

"But I don't give up so easily," she continued, standing up again and raising the Plasma Canon, gripping it tightly. Her finger hovered over the discharge button. "So, tell me, Dalek," she paused, counting down in her head, "Are you afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?" She heard the cheerful chime of the EMP detonation, and she swung around the corner, bringing the Canon to bear, and fired.

* * *

**Footnote:** So, my April Fools post isn't a prank, I promise. It is, however, horribly evil. That said, you got an extra post, and you only have to wait until tomorrow for the thrilling conclusion. Stop your bellyachin'.

Also, Netflix has "won" April Fools Day by posting two thrilling "original" films. One is 70 minutes of a rotisserie chicken cooking in reverse, the other is 20 minutes of bacon sizzling in reverse. I "watched" the latter while I was writing, just because I couldn't help myself. Netlix's recommendations after it was over? All Kevin Bacon movies.

Touché, Netflix. Tou-f#$%in'-ché.


	8. Chapter 8

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who.

Here is the final chapter for this episode! The first chapter of Episode VI will be posted on Friday:

**Doctor Who: Parallax – Saints and Sinners**

After defeating the Dalek, The Doctor decides Rose needs a break from all the chaos. He takes her the year 76043 to spend a few days on a luxury starliner touring the Eagle Nebula. It soon becomes clear that something is off, however, when the ship's guests can't seem to stop dancing.

**Narutoluvr9:** I. Know. :D Hahahaha, glad you're enjoying it! **Royslady51:** Well, if this were the original Nine, he'd think it meant "Hits on anything that moves. And, if she's drunk, coat racks." **Jeni27:** Muahahahahahaha... *Cough, cough, hack, clears throat* I really need to work on that. **Mauve Guest:** Oooh, I have the feeling Chamberlain knows exactly what he's unleashed... *rubs hands together maniacally* **Emmitha:** Well, since you asked so nicely... **Payton-Hale:** I know how you feel. I was lucky enough to discover "Outlander" when there were already six books out. If I had been with it from the beginning, I'd have rioted in the damn street after Book 2 ended.** Vaylyn:** Good to know I've created the literary form of black tar heroin. :D **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** Yeah, sorry about that. You had just gotten done saying how you like alternate universe stories partly because of Jake and I was like: ...awkwaaaaaard. Also, it's Batman or no-man. **Lady Dunla:** I am very glad to hear I managed to pull off proper Dalek scariness. I don't have a ton of experience with truly evil, menacing characters. Practice, practice, practice! **TK:** It's all cool, just figured we should stick to British protocols. Like Dame Judy Dench and Dame Helen Mirren. Holy crap I love Helen Mirren. But, back to topic, glad you enjoyed the bonus! Unfortunately I can't answer a single question because, and it almost kills me to say this, "Spoilers!" But you will have your reunion wish granted very shortly!

* * *

The Doctor felt oddly calm as he strode with grim purpose through the barren halls of Level SB12. He had no weapon, no escape route, and no plan. What he had was a crystal-clear, resolute mind devoid of all fear, and two simple objectives. First, he would kill the Dalek; not for his people, not for himself, and not to end the Time War. He would destroy the creature because he had to. Then, he would find Rose, and he would bring her home to her family and see her buried. The empty ache in his chest redoubled at the thought, and he let it. He could do no less for her, and he didn't think much further beyond that; his mind rebelled at the thought of returning to the TARDIS without her. He didn't know where he'd go, but he knew without hesitation who he would be: the man she believed in, the man she'd died for.

Tonight, though, he was filled with decisive purpose. He had finally faced the darkness inside himself, the soldier he'd so feared. He knew it would always be a part of him, but from this moment on, he would learn to live with it, to understand and control it. He turned corner after corner, searching for the creature who had wrought such destruction. He couldn't even think of the Dalek as the enemy, as the last surviving soldier of the late Great Dalek Empire. It was a lone animal, without conscience or empathy, that had done what it was bred to do, and in the process it had signed its own death warrant. The Doctor would see the suffering ended. He would not taunt it, and he would not gloat. He would kill it as quickly and mercifully as he could, for there was no victory in this.

"_You're lucky. So very, very lucky,_" his own words, the words of the man he would someday become, echoed in his mind.

"_I know_," he'd replied.

"_No, you don't. Not yet. But you will_." And he did. Probably better than his alternate self could ever have imagined. He could only hope the last bit was equally true, "_Just know that it's worth it. All of it. Even after she's gone._"

The Doctor turned a corner, then, and stopped short. Every thought fled from his brain and his breath escaped him. He barely noticed the demolished casing of the Dalek, blasted open like a macabre orchid, for the vision in red silk that stood over it, her back turned to him. She still held the Plasma Canon limply at her side, the strap dragging on the concrete floor. For several seconds, he well and truly didn't believe his eyes, but as she slowly began to move, turning in his direction, unreserved joy and relief crashed through his body. She held herself high, a bruised and bloody Boudica, her weary face a reflection of relief and regret until she saw him standing there.

"You're alive," he rasped, as her eyes met his and the smile slowly spread across his face, "Rose, you're alive."

"'Course I am," she replied, "An army of Daleks couldn't kill me, and believe me, they've tried." She was trying to be flip, trying to put on a brave face, but as he saw the already weak, watery smile begin to collapse, his own smile fell.

"Oh, Rose," he breathed, and rushed forward. She dropped the gun and threw herself into his arms, threading her own under his jacket and clinging to him desperately as the wracking sobs overtook her. He hadn't missed the blood trailing heavily from her right ear, but as it clearly wasn't her primary concern, he put it on the backburner.

"He's dead," she sobbed into his jumper, "Jake's dead. They're all dead." He held her tighter.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he said, earnestly, kissing her forehead, "I'm so very sorry."

"They..." she stumbled on the words, "They died because of me, Doctor. They died so I could get away, so I could..." With that, the guilt and anger overtook her and she fell into incomprehensible, wailing sobs, her whole body shaking as she cried and struggled for breath.

"No, Rose, this isn't your fault," he insisted, gripping her shoulders more tightly, his hearts aching for her, "None of this is your fault." She continued to cry, holding on to him like she might collapse if she let go, and he stood torn between his own unending joy at finding her alive and his utter sorrow for her profound loss. A loss he knew all too well. It didn't take long for her sobs to abate, that magnitude of outpouring could never last long. When she seemed to have caught her breath, he took her shoulders and put some space between them, just enough that he could see her face.

"Rose," he prodded gently, "Rose look at me." She reluctantly lifted her gaze to his, eyelids puffy and red under the darkly smeared makeup. "It isn't your fault," he insisted, moving his hands to cradle her face, "Please, believe me. I know, and you don't want to live with that. It isn't your fault they died, and it isn't your fault you lived." She wouldn't believe it right away, probably not even in a day or a week or a month, but someday she would, and as she looked up at him, it was clear she trusted him absolutely. When she seemed to be calming down further, he continued.

"Right now, we need to find a way to get word to Pete and Mickey you're all right, Rose. I don't want to get slapped anymore tonight." The surprised snort of laughter was exactly what he'd been looking for, and he gave her another quick, firm hug before they eased apart. "Also need to have a look at that ear," he pointed out, brow creased in concern as he tilted her head for a better look, "What happened?"

"Dalek blasted the communicator out of my ear," she explained, and he couldn't control the shocked look on his face or the chill that ran through him as he realized how close she'd come. "Speakin' of, where's yours?"

"Left it behind," he said, schooling himself and taking her hand as they started down the hall, away from the remains of the Dalek, "I couldn't listen to Pete callin' your name while I – while I looked for you." Rose squeezed his hand, understanding.

"Thank you," she said, and there was nothing else to say.

* * *

Once the lockdown protocols had been lifted, Rose and The Doctor took the elevator up to the lobby where Pete, Mickey, and Donna were all waiting for them. There had been all manner of hugging and fussing over Rose, and The Doctor had tolerated all the rampant domesticity fairly well. However, when Pete had tried to usher her off to the medical unit, The Doctor had put his foot down, insisting he bring her to the infirmary in the TARDIS. They found compromise by doing as The Doctor said, though Pete, Mickey, and Donna all insisted on accompanying her. The Doctor had been less than patient about catering to Pete and Donna's surprise upon entering his ship, and Mickey had blessedly assumed the task of acquainting them with Superior Time Lord Technology.

So it was that Rose found herself sitting on the gurney with The Doctor hovering around her with his Sonic and all manner of other medical devices while her stepfather, ex boyfriend, and one of her dearest friends stood around questioning him and trying entirely too hard to soothe her. She was exhausted, her nerves were frayed, and though she was eternally grateful to have such loving, concerned people in her life, she desperately wanted a moment alone with The Doctor. There was so much she had to say, and after everything they'd been through that night, she was running low on patience.

Finally, The Doctor had rendered his diagnosis, and it was much as she'd expected. The eardum had ruptured, and would eventually heal, but the cochlea was damaged beyond repair. Rose was hardly concerned with the news, though Pete, Mickey, and Donna were all outraged and demanded The Doctor explain why he couldn't fix it. After shouting them down, no easy feet where Donna was concerned, he had gone on to explain that he could take her to a hospital where she could have a new cochlea, grown from her own DNA, implanted in its place. To lighten the mood, Rose had asked if she could maybe get one from a bat, instead. No one laughed.

"What's that?" Rose asked as The Doctor began fiddling with something that looked terribly similar to a hot glue gun.

"Medical aerogel," he said, tilting her head sideways a little, "I'm using it to fill your inner ear cavity, support the basic structure and keep the air pressure equalized until we get you to the hospital. Silver nanoparticles will prevent the growth of bacteria. Now, hold still." Rose did as she was asked, though she cringed a bit, expecting something cold or slimy or generally unpleasant. Instead, it felt light and soft, perfectly adjusted to her body temperature.

"Why not take her, now?" Mickey asked, not bothering to mitigate his critical tone. The Doctor shot him a scathing look.

"So that Rose can stay for the memorial," The Doctor said coldly as he finished the application. That shut Mickey up. "All right, next stop, the Tyler estate. Anyone who wants to go elsewhere, leave." Without further ceremony, The Doctor exited the infirmary, leaving Rose's odd little hodgepodge family speechless in his wake.

"Well," Mickey finally said, "Guess that's me, then. Sorry, Rose, I just need to get back to Julie and the kids. Let 'em know I'm all right." Rose shook her head, smiling.

"Don't worry about it, Mick. I understand," she said, "Say 'hi' to them for me, yeah?"

"Of course," he smiled and gave her a sideways hug as she sat on the gurney.

"Last call!" The Doctor's booming voice drifted back to them from the console room.

"Oi!" Mickey shouted back, releasing Rose, "I'm comin', then!" Rose shook her head as he marched out of the room.

"What about you?" Rose asked Donna.

"What? And leave you with that freaky Martian? Not bloody likely," Donna said, crossing her arms, "Besides, granddad's at your place tonight. There was a meteor shower or somesuch."

"For the last time, he's not a Martian," Rose said, plopping backward on the gurney in exasperation.

* * *

"Come on, then, Rose," The Doctor prodded gently a few minutes later, "I can already hear Jackie bangin' down the doors."

"I was once assured the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through," Rose smiled. She was feeling a touch better after Donna had dug some wet wipes out of her handbag and gently cleaned the smeared makeup and dried blood off Rose's face and neck.

"Yes, well, Genghis never met your mother," The Doctor replied, and Rose and Pete couldn't help but laugh at that. Even Donna smiled despite her best efforts. Still chuckling, Rose allowed The Doctor to help her off the gurney and onto her feet.

"Don't suppose there's time to change." Rose commented as he walked her out of the infirmary, Pete and Donna trailing behind. The growing sound of Jackie's shouting was more than answer enough.

"'Fraid not," The Doctor replied, unnecessarily.

* * *

Much to The Doctor's surprise, after being team tackled by both Jackie and Tony and finally changing into tracksuit bottoms and a jumper, Rose had declined to go to bed. Instead, she'd followed Donna outside to where Wilf had set up his telescope, saying the only thing she wanted after being trapped more than ten stories underground was to spend some time under the open night sky; and what a sky it was. It would be days, perhaps, before the grid was restored, and with all of Britain and Western Europe gone dark on the new moon, the Milky Way was truly breathtaking. So, The Doctor found himself sitting on the soft, cool grass of the Tylers' back lawn with Rose leaning gently against his side.

"You know," The Doctor began, softly, "The London sky hasn't looked like this in over five hundred years."

"Prove it," Rose teased, nudging him gently. Donna and Wilf sat several yards away on the posh chairs taken from the formal dining room, giving Rose and The Doctor enough space to talk amongst themselves.

"Deal," he said, simply. Rose was alive. He would spend a hundred thousand nights just staring up at the stars from every world he could think of, and a number he couldn't, as long as she was there. For the first time in a long, long time he could see the vast, terrible, and humbling beauty of the universe. He could feel just how tiny and insignificant he was, even with all his nine hundred years, and marveled in the knowledge that they could get in his ship any minute and see all of it. Together.

_You're lucky. So very, very lucky._

"I think I've put some of it together," Rose said, after a time.

"What?"

"Chamberlain," she said, softly, "He was Metropolitan Police Commissioner before he became head of Torchwood."

"So?"

"So, he won the position after 'saving' the city after a freak summer storm. He had first responders dispatched to all corners of the city in record time. Saved hundreds of lives. He even harassed the mayor into using the city's disaster insurance to help residents rebuild their homes and businesses."

"The Goane," The Doctor suddenly realized, cursing inwardly, "He abducted the Goane and forced her to generate the storm so he could step in and save the day."

"And win over the Torchwood Board of Directors," she concluded, "Though, he could've run for mayor, instead. Easily. Not sure why he wanted to be in charge of Torchwood so badly."

"And we interfered," The Doctor pointed out, "Too late to really ruin his plans, but just the same."

"I can't figure out that bit about another companion, though," she continued, "When I figured out the connection with the Goane, I thought maybe it meant Martha, but she isn't in Cardiff. She's here in London."

"All the same, we should check it out. Maybe she's travelling."

"Nearly full term? Unlikely. But you're right. Just in case." Rose allowed. Then, somewhat hesitantly she added, "It might not be over, Doctor. With the Daleks." The Doctor shifted slightly, to look at her, but he said nothing, and she could see his expression was open, relaxed. Taking a deep breath, she sat upright and turned herself around to face him. She struggled for her words, unsure where to start, but once she'd begun, she found her pace. For the next two hours she told him everything. Everything she'd done and every place she'd gone with The Doctor, the good and the bad and the fun and the tragic. She told him every detail she could remember, not knowing if any of it might have any relevancy some day. She told him about Adam and about Jack, not catching the unwitting flash of jealousy in his eyes as she picked at the blades of grass and pulled them apart in her fingers.

She told him about Satellite Five and, later, the Gamestation. She told him what she'd done to return to The Doctor, about the Bad Wolf, and what he'd told her after it was over, about the things she couldn't remember. She knew he'd held some of it back, only disclosing those things that couldn't be explained by anything other than the truth. She told him how she suspected it was her fault he regenerated, though he'd refused to ever explicitly confirm as much. She told him how the regeneration went badly, how he'd woken up to save them from the Sycorax at the last minute. He listened with an inexplicable displeasure to everything thereafter, everything she'd gone through with his next regeneration, with the pretty boy. Hearing about Madame du Pompadour and the incident on the planetoid orbiting a black hole didn't improve matters much. She told him about Mickey traveling with them, and though he was mildly horrified by the notion, it did explain how Mickey the Idiot knew the first thing about his magnificent ship.

Finally, with a steadiness she never thought she'd be able to muster when discussing the matter, she told him about the Cybermen and the Cult of Skaro and the Battle of Canary Wharf. As she recounted how The Doctor had informed her so matter-of-factly that she would be going to the parallel universe with Jackie and Pete and Mickey; without The Doctor; his fists reflexively clinched. Still, he listened quietly, patiently, as she told him how she returned for The Doctor, yet again, and how Pete had saved her at the last minute when she lost her grip. He didn't say a word as she told him about driving thousands of miles to a deserted beach in Norway to say 'goodbye,' and she never told him what she said to her Doctor. The only part she held back in the whole, long tale was how she'd felt about the other Time Lord. When it was over, they sat there in silence for some time.

"What did you do?" he asked, finally, "After that?"

"I spent the next two years trying to find a way back, and then," she paused, a memory bubbling up unbidden, and she smiled, "And then I traveled. I ate the food, used the wrong verbs, got charged double, and ended up kissing complete strangers." The Doctor couldn't help but laugh at that, clueless that she was, in a way, quoting him.

"That's fantastic, Rose," he beamed at her, "Absolutely fantastic."

* * *

Rose entered the TARDIS five days later, a bag full of new clothes Jackie had insisted she buy slung over one shoulder. The Doctor looked up from his work as she entered, smiling warmly, before returning his attention to the console.

"So, how was it?" he asked, concentrating on the monitor. Rose dropped her bag on the floor and sat down on the jump seat.

"It was lovely," she said, a bit wistful, "Cried a bit when Mickey spoke." The Doctor's look was sympathetic.

"How is Mickey?" he asked, and Rose glanced at him to see if he was sincere. He absolutely was.

"He's holdin' up. They were best mates, he and Jake, and Mickey knew nearly all the tac team members. Trained at least half of them. It's rough, but he's strong, Mick. And he's got Julie."

"That's good," The Doctor acknowledged, "I'm glad."

"Oh, off with ya," Rose teased, her tongue between her teeth, "You can't stand 'im."

"He cares about you, Rose," The Doctor said simply, "That's enough for me." For a moment, she smiled at him with that broad, genuine smile, and his hearts warmed. However, there was business to attend to, and he clapped his hands together, "Now, we've a few ground rules to discuss."

"I already know," Rose dismissed, "No wanderin' off; don't incite revolutions; dress appropriately for historical time periods, especially during eras when people still believed in witches; never 'hit' on eighteen; don't feed the wildlife; and never get involved in a land war in Asia." The Doctor gave her a withering look. "What?" she asked, innocently.

"There are new rules," he began, "Just for you. Turns out, there are some things I didn't anticipate."

"So you didn't think of everything."

"Can I have a bit of hush?" he asked with exaggerated dignity, "First, Rose Tyler, is that you are never, ever to leave me behind again while you go swannin' off to get yourself killed. No goin' where I can't follow. Got that?" He was trying to keep it light, but the uncertainty in her eyes tugged at his hearts. "Look," he said more seriously, walking over to her and holding out his hand. She took it and stood up to face him. "I know why you did it. It was the only thing you could do, but I promise you, Rose, I will never put you in a position to make that choice again," he said, searching her face, "And, Rose, I will never leave you behind. Not willingly. It's together, or not at all, from here. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," she smiled, not hesitating a second, "I trust you."

"Good," he beamed back before dragging her, unceremoniously, to the console, "Next rule is flip that switch."

"That's oddly specific," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. He smirked back at her.

"It has become abundantly clear to me that you will not stay put when asked, and while I promise not to leave you behind, that doesn't mean we won't get separated. As such, you will be required to learn to fly the TARDIS. Because, Rose," he grew gravely serious all of a sudden, "You cannot look into the Vortex again. Not ever. You did it once, in your universe, and it's a wonder it didn't kill you, then. If you do it, here..." He didn't finish his statement, just stared into her with those fierce gray eyes, trying desperately to convey the importance of his words.

"What?" Rose asked, "What will happen?"

"The Time Vortex is incomprehensibly powerful, Rose. How it didn't burn out your mind, I'll never know, but I do know a little was left behind. Sort of like a stained coffee mug. That ring is never coming out, and if you did the same here, if Vortex energy from my universe blended with the remnants from your universe..." he struggled to find his next words, "It could tear you apart, Rose. Two opposing universes pulling you apart, atom-by-atom. It could destroy you, or erase you from history, or pull you into the void, I don't know. Just promise me. Promise me you will never try to access the Time Vortex, ever again." Rose swallowed hard.

"I promise," she said, and after a few moments, he smiled.

"Well then," he said, stepping back, "Flip the switch. Oh, and it's a bit close in this wardrobe, try not to scratch up the sides. I haven't got comprehensive."

"'S 'cause you can't insure a stolen vehicle," she pointed out, flipping the indicated switch.

"Just for that, I'm making you learn how to parallel park."

* * *

**Footnote:**

"So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light

'Cause oh that gave me such a fright

But I will hold on with all of my might

Just promise me we'll be all right"

-Mumford & Sons: Ghosts That We Knew


End file.
